


I write sins

by ArinThePotato



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: 2000s, Gay, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, LGBTQ Character, Mental Instability, Mormonism, Multi, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21678094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArinThePotato/pseuds/ArinThePotato
Summary: Brendon Urie, the closeted, loud, and rebellious Bisexual teen, is faced with the troubles of falling in love with the complicated, quiet, and reserved Ryan Ross after running into him while skipping church with his future-astrologer friend, Dallon Weekes. The two boys find it difficult to get along with their major differences, but it doesn't stop them from forming a beautiful friendship, and maybe even later, a more beautiful relationship._[ Copied from my Wattpad account, StrangeTaniwha ]
Relationships: Brendon Urie/Dallon Weekes, Linda Ignarro/Spencer Smith, Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie, Ryan Ross/Jon Walker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuthorBagel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorBagel/gifts).
**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2,685

"Brendon, get up! We're gonna be late!" Grace Urie called from the hallway.

Brendon was faced down on his pillow as he groaned into it.

It was Sunday morning and the Urie family had church at 7:45 AM. Brendon wasn't totally against the church, as it meant he got to see his best friend, Dallon Weekes, who was in the town's group of Mormon Missionaries. It's just a fancy word for guys who go door to door asking people if they wanna hear about Jesus Christ, but don't quote him on that. Dallon has been sneaking out from it to hang out with Brendon more recently, mostly because he didn't particularly enjoy it.

He flipped over and sat up, forcing himself out of the cozy home he called his bed. He sang under his breath as he went over to the dresser, wearing nothing but boxers. He pulled open the dresser drawers, peering into the abyss of black and white with tired eyes. 

He furrowed his eyebrows when he saw a spot of red and orange poking out from between two of his white button-ups. He knows he knows what it is, but curiosity and sleep deprivation convinced him that he should look.

He pulled it out, then quickly stuffed it back into the right bottom corner of the drawer. "Forbidden territory," He joked to himself as he shoved the flag back into the corner. He then looked over at his window, which was unlocked. 

Dallon was definitely here last night to drop off his beautiful flag. He had secretly bought the two pride flags for the upcoming pride parade in June. Yeah, it was 3 months away, but his neighbor was going away for the few months, and they were the only other adult in the neighborhood that wouldn't beat their ass for it. He'll have to tell Dallon to tell them he said thank you.

"Brendon Boyd! Let's go!" Grace yelled again, the sound of clinking forks against plates and the coffee maker running filling the quiet morning air. Mornings in the Urie household were far from peaceful, but the delicious smell of coffee and hashbrowns made up for that. 

"I'm comin'!" He called back, pulling out a white dress shirt and black slacks. He then pulled out his black tie and cross necklace. He's broken the chain multiple times on accident, which has made Grace furious. He always blamed it on his church friends messing around outback while the children's classes went on. He unclipped it and slipped it around his neck. 

Brendon slipped off his shirt, throwing it on his carpeted floor. He slid on the white shirt and buttoned the buttons. He huffed as he laid the tie around his neck then put on his black slacks, finishing off his outfit with a pair of socks.

It must be obvious by now that Brendon wasn't a huge fan of church. He actually despised it quite a bit. He couldn't count on his fingers how many times he faked sick just to get out of going to church. 

It's not that he was against Christianity, but he was against most of the people following it. They completely twist the words of the Bible, making today's society believe the most absurd things. "Love thy neighbor," they said, "but if thy neighbor follows one of the following lifestyles even though they are not harming you or anyone else, then disown thy neighbor..."

Brendon opened his door and walked out of his room, humming some old Green Day song under his breath. Grace Urie glanced over her shoulder, "Morning Brendon." She said as she turned back to the stove. "Morning," He said in response, going over and kissing his mother on the cheek. 

"I think I'm going to skip breakfast today and catch up with Dallon. I'm not hungry anyway." He told her. Grace gave a disappointed sigh as she looked down at the hashbrowns she had just made for Brendon. He knew his older brother Matt would eat them anyway, he loved their mother's hashbrowns.

"Alright. You go ahead and walk to church. We'll meet you there." She said, shaking her head. 

"'K, cya Mom." He waved his family off and gathered his shoes and backpack, slipping them on his way out the door.

"You better get that tie tied before service, B!" Kayla yelled, just as she saw Boyd open his mouth to say the same thing.

"Will do, Thanks," Brendon rolled his eyes as he opened the door and walked out, quietly closing it behind him.

As soon as he was out of sight of his house, he dashed down the sidewalk, on his way to his friend's house, his nice black shoes loudly slapping against the pavement. They weren't exactly the best running shoes, nor the most comfortable, but he got used to them after a while. 

He and Dallon were close friends, both going to the same church. But the main reason why they got along so well: They were both sinners, as they liked to joke with each other. For obvious reasons. 

The pair were the queer kids in the neighborhood, along with their friend Spencer, which was bisexual. Brendon didn't exactly have a label yet, but he wasn't straight.

Brendon's mood instantly brightened when he saw Dallon's small blue house around the corner. He quickly started running again, even though he was out of breath.

As soon as his shoes were hit with the wet morning dew, he walked up to Dallon's window. Brendon peered inside, seeing his friend singing along to something while he was putting on his shirt. His disheveled brown hair bounced lightly as he moved along to the song. It was obvious he had just woken up. He knocked on the window, making Dallon whip his head up. He quickly ran over, hopping as he pulled up his pants. Brendon watched him unlock the window and swing it open, the sound of an Iggy Pop song filling his ears.

"Let's go, man. We can do your hair when we get there." Brendon leaned against the window on his hands.

Dallon sighed, "Just hold on." He went back over and turned off his music. Brendon let out an impatient groan as he hopped up to sit on Dallon's window sill.

He heard Dallon's door open. "Brendon's here, I'm leaving!" Dallon called out of the doorway. Finally, he was dressed.

"Be safe! Love you!" His mother called back.

"Love you too!" Dallon replied before shutting his door.

Brendon jumped when he saw Dallon's backpack being thrown onto the grass. He turned to watch him slide out the window next to him.

"There's a perfectly good door right there yet you choose to jump out a window. Love that," Brendon laughed, standing back up.

Dallon shrugged, giving Brendon a soft smile. He went over and picked up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder.

Brendon went over to the sidewalk and held out his hand, which Dallon took gratefully. Brendon gripped his hand tightly, lightly swinging them as they started walking to the church.

The adults didn't bother them about the pair holding hands anymore. Dallon and Brendon had known each other since basically birth, and it was always something they did as a child, so everyone thought it was just an old habit.

"I dropped off your flag for June last night," Dallon piped up. Brendon responded with a nod, "I noticed, can't believe Sherral is gonna be missing this year. They never miss the parade," He frowned.

Dallon nodded sadly, "It definitely won't be the same without them, but remember, Spencer and his girlfriend are going, so we won't be alone." He reassured, squeezing Brendon's hand.

"Yeah you're right, It's gonna be Spencer and Linda's first pride parade!" He excitedly looked up at Dallon, who laughed. "It'll be the best day of our lives, I'm sure of it," Dallon said, looking back to the sidewalk.

~

They were at the church now, and as usual, got there before their families. Brendon zipped his backpack open and pulled out his comb and hair gel, pushing Dallon to sit down on the bleachers in front of the firepit. 

There were a lot of adult bonfires and barbeques that went on during the summer, so a fire pit was a necessity for their church.

Brendon sat behind him and started getting to work with slicking his friend's unruly hair back. "You need a haircut, like, bad." He commented, tugging on his hair. 

Dallon smiled, "I know, but I like it this way." He said, swatting Urie's hand away. Brendon shrugged and proceeded to run the comb through his hair, trying his best to brush it back. He then moved in front of him and got some gel on his hands, applying it as he was brushing Dallon's hair back. Brendon leaned back a bit, then pushed down a piece of hair that was sticking up in the back.

"Are you done?" Dallon asked. Brendon hummed and leaned back again before nodding in approval, "You're done, cutie," He patted his cheek. 

Dallon smiled then swung his leg back over, leaning forward onto his knees, "I say we skip today. It's always boring during these times of the year. They're just discussing the barbeques. They're doing them a bit differently." He looked over at Brendon, who had moved back up next to him. 

Brendon gives him a questioning look, "You sure? Our parents would kill us."

He wasn't that bothered by this. Dallon would always try to make Brendon skip church with him. They usually covered it up by saying they were helping Mr. Bugatti with after-service classes. Mr. Bugatti was like Brendon and Dallon. He wasn't too interested in the activities of the church, and he was also gay. He was always open to lying to their parents that they were in his room during services, which they were more than grateful for.

"Brendon quit stressing. We've done it for the past 2 years, I know you want to. Your sisters would just bother you the whole time, so let's go before our parents get here." Dallon stood up and grabbed Brendon's hand, pulling him to the church to let Mr. Bugatti know they were skipping today. It wasn't like Brendon had a choice, so he let Dallon drag him along. 

"Brendon, Dallon! My favorite boys! Ditching as usual I presume?" He asks, brown eyes looking up from an old history book. His dark hair wasn't pulled up today, so his dark curls laid across his shoulders. 

Dallon nodded "Can you fill us in?" He asked, hand still in mine. Mr. Bugatti nodded, "You boys have fun. I'll be here dealing with...little humans, as usual." He said, letting out a deep laugh as he waved them off. "Say, you two going to the parade this year? Sherral going as well? Haven't heard from them in a bit."

Dallon smiled, Brendon did as well, "Thanks Mr. Bugatti, and yes! I had my and Brendon's flags shipped to Sherral's home. They're not going this year though, they're visiting their sister in June." Brendon explained.

"Well, that's a shame...pride is always much more exciting with them." Bugatti frowned before giving a smile again "But glad you two are going, it's your first time. You'll guys have the time of your lives, believe me," He said, leaning back in his seat.

Brendon smiled back, "We're excited, we've heard great things from Sherral and their old girlfriend."

Mr. Bugatti nodded slowly, "Well you two run along, you don't have a lot of time before people start piling in.

"Right! Thank you again, Mr. Bugatti, we'll see you later!" Dallon said before dragging Brendon out. He quietly shut the door behind them, leading the two of them back outside.

"So where do you plan on going? People are going to know we're flunking because we're in our uniforms." Brendon added after they ran out of the church.

"We run back to your house and change. I already prepared." Dallon patted the backpack strap on his shoulder. Brendon sighed and turned a corner down the street, "Alright." He said, slipping his hand back in Dallon's.  
___

Their hands swung between them as they walked along the sidewalk once again. Brendon was dressed in his Aerosmith t-shirt and his black skinny jeans. Dallon said those jeans really bring out his "apple-bottom hips", which was said to be gifted gratefully from his mother. She would beat him if she saw him in these jeans, for sure.

Brendon was quickly pulled from his thoughts when he saw a figure turning the corner.

Oh my lord,

Brendon was instantly distracted by a beautiful boy walking their way. A messenger bag on his shoulder as his brown locks kept his lowered face hidden from the world. He was also wearing a maroon dress shirt with a black tie, which perfectly brought out his pale complexion. He looked up momentarily, looking at Brendon and Dallon. 

He'd seen a lot of cute boys before, roam this street, but never this one, which was odd. Brendon could feel his face turning tomato red as he quickly looked down to the pavement. Dallon must've noticed because he chuckled as he spoke, "He's cute isn't he?"

Brendon turned to him with a raised eyebrow and punched his shoulder, "Shut up. He's a church boy." He looked back down, shoving his free hand in his pocket. Dallon nodded. He knew Brendon tended to not go for anyone that went to Church, in fear of getting brutally beat up or insulted, much like the Henderson twins to anyone showing the slighted but of homosexuality, their the infamous, raging, homophobes of their community.

Right as the boy walked by, Dallon turned to him and said, "Hey! He thinks you're cute." as he pointed to Brendon.

Brendon's eyes widened, hand ready to punch the taller friend in the shoulder. Dallon knew that Brendon was gonna be pissed now, but he was so tired of Brendon constantly looking from a distance instead of actually trying to go for it. He had to get one eventually, and this was the perfect opportunity. Did Brendon really think he looked straight? The dude looked like the epitome of homosexuality. 

Instead of deciding to walk away like he usually did, Brendon looked over at the boy, who was looking at him with surprise, the boy's cheeks a light pink. Brendon swallowed, waiting for the worst to happen, his heart racing as he did. 

"You know what," The boy said, going up to Brendon, the shorter male's heart skipping a beat as he came closer,

"You're cute yourself, girl jeans." He said and shook his head.

Brendon's mouth fell open at his comment. He didn't know if he was teasing him or insulting him, but he isn't punching him right now, so he'll take it. The boy then opened the notebook in his hand and grabbed a pen in his pocket. He quickly wrote something down, ripped off the corner, stuffing the ripped piece in the pocket of his lavender jacket with the same soft smile, his honey eyes staring into his chocolate brown ones. "You should text me sometime, maybe we can hang out."

Brendon stood in astonishment as he turned and walked away quickly. He was awkward as ever, but it was cute. Dallon starting slapping his arm repeatedly. "You got yourself a boyfriend!" He sang obnoxiously, nudging his shoulder. Brendon pulled out the paper from his pocket and looked at it.

(775)***-****  
-Ryan

"A very sinful church boy isn't he?" Dallon joked as Brendon stuffed the paper back in his pocket. Brendon shook his head and continued walking with his arms crossed over his body. "Shut up, Dallon." He spat, but he couldn't stop the smile on his face.

"Ooooo!" Dallon teased again and continued to nudge his shoulder with his own. 

"I hate you..." Brendon murmured, trying to hide his smile. Alright, is this a miracle, or is Brendon secretly starring in some undercover movie?


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words: 4,204

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formatting will be awkward due to this being copied from wattpad, but nothing affects the text.

Brendon laid in Dallon's lap, fiddling with the flip phone in his hand. Dallon's rough, pale, hands ran through his hands softly as the two laid on Brendon's be

"When are you gonna call him? It's been all day, he's gonna expect something from you at some point." Dallon complained.

Brendon sighed, rubbing his face, "Yeah, I know, but what do I say?" He threw his hands in defeat. Their conversation was quickly interrupted by obnoxious banging on their window. 

"Boo!"

Brendon and Dallon shrieked, they proceeded to whip their heads towards the window, where Spencer was waving outside.

"What the fuck, Spencer?" Brendon retorted and got up with a groan. He swung open the white-rimmed window, the boy climbing in onto Brendon's bed.

"Hello, fellow homosexuals, how are you guys this fine night?" He asked with a goofy smile on his face, closing the window behind him. Dallon rolled his eyes as the new friend climbed in and sat in front of the two. Brendon sat back down in Dallon's lap this time, cringing at Spencer's lame entrance.

Spencer was your typical, Myspace-looking, queer emo kid. He had long, fringed, brown hair, pale complexion, and the most beautiful ocean blue eyes. Seriously, Brendon could never not be in love with them. Unlike his usual skinny jeans and tight band tees, he was in grey sweatpants, a white England Patriots hoodie, and his old Vans. He hated sports, but the hoodie was his favorite out of the 500 better ones in his closet. 

Brendon met him back in 8th grade when he saw flyers for a band auditioning drummers, Pet Salamander was their name. It was kinda stupid, but at the time it was the coolest thing Brendon had ever seen. He was looking at the badly drawn flyer for a few minutes, desperately wanting to join. But he was going to a private school at the time, so he couldn't. Spencer saw Brendon looking at his flyer and the two started a strong relationship instantly. Brendon introduced him to Dallon soon after they met. Spencer was the only friend Brendon made outside of the church. It sounds sad, but he didn't have a huge problem with it. Sherral doesn't count cuz they're an adult. 

"God, you guys are so gay for each other," Spencer sighed at the two's position and rolled his eyes. He turned to lean against the window, stretching his legs out across the bed. Dallon only pulled Brendon closer in response, shoving his face into the crook of his neck. Spencer fake-gagged as he looked away.

"You're getting grass on my bed!" Brendon scolded, kicking his legs off and wiping off the wet, green, strips from his bedsheets. Spencer huffed, "I haven't even told you why I'm here yet and you're already kicking me out, thanks, guys." He said in a joking manner, swinging his legs off the side of the bed.

Brendon sighed, "Why are you here Spencer?" He asked. Spencer leaned his head back against the window, "Typical parents arguing. I didn't feel like listening to their shit and decided to get out of the house for a bit. Told them I went to get food from the gas station." He replied and pulled out money from his hoodie pocket, one 5 and 5 ones. Dallon furrowed his eyebrows worriedly, "Are you okay?" He questioned the smaller friend. Spencer nodded, "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay, thanks. I just would rather be with you guys then at home having to listen to those two." He smiled at the pair.

Brendon nodded understandingly, "Are you going to do that? The gas station, I mean. I wanna go with you if you're still going." He asked, looking up at Dallon for confirmation. He nodded eagerly.

Spencer shrugged, "Do you have money?" He asked. "5 bucks from Mr. Bugatti enough?" Brendon raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Let's go," Spencer smiled excitedly and gently backhanded Brendon's arm as he stood up

"Alright then," Brendon smiled back at his friend and hopped off of Dallon's lap. "You okay with paying for me? I wanna get a Dr. Pepper." Dallon asked, reaching over the side of the bed to put his shoes on. "Of course; can you hand me my shoes?" Brendon responded, swinging open the window so Spencer could climb out. 

Dallon extended his arm to his right and threw a pair of sneakers over his shoulder. The pair landed on the bed quite ungracefully, one tumbling back on the floor as Brendon failed to catch them. He sighed in disappointment at his weak reflexes, "Thanks, let's go," He replied to Dallon and slipped the shoes on, just tucking the laces under the tongue out of laziness.  
___

The walk to the gas station was quite risky, as their neighborhood wasn't quite the safest at night. The only thing that steadied their neighborhoods good reputation was everyone's strong Christianity. There's a gay bar not even a mile away but go off I guess.

On another note, he couldn't take his mind off of Ryan the entire day. 

"Hey, Bren?" Spencer piped up, causing the distracted boy tagging behind to look up. Spencer dropped his grip from Dallon's hand and made grabby hands towards Brendon, who smiled and took it gratefully. Spencer pulled him closer, their hands quickly separated as his friend's pale arm was slung around his friend's shoulders.

"Don't be third-wheeling on us, you know I hate when you do that," Spencer added sweetly, squeezing him gently. Brendon shook his head, "Just thinking," He replied, leaning his head on Spencer's shoulder. This part of town was much safer than the neighborhood, so they were more comfortable with being affectionate with each other.

Dallon peeked out beside Spencer and gave Brendon a skeptical look. Spencer was quick to look between them, confusion running through his mind.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, letting out a soft chuckle. Brendon's face flushed, "Don't you dare, Dallon," He broke out into a chuckle as he pointed a finger at him. Dallon let out a defensive smile and put his hands up, "Alright, I won't, but I guess Spencer will never know that you met the love of your life today," He turned to Brendon, his smile turning sly.

"Wait, seriously?! Brendon! Tell me!" Spencer shook Brendon lightly as the shorter boy next to him groaned into his hands.

"It's nothing, Spencer. Dallon's exaggerating, he's a church boy, it's only bad news." He sighed. Dallon raised an eyebrow, "The look on your face earlier said otherwise. Brendon, you should just give it a chance. Did you see how hard he was blushing? The dude looked redder than a tomato!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah but-" Brendon tried to make an excuse, "We're both from the church, it would never work!" He sighed.

"Brendon, you've been looking for a boyfriend for so long now, why are you throwing your chance away?" Spencer asked, looking at Brendon with furrowed eyebrows.

Brendon crossed his arms as he leaned into Spencer, the gas station coming up in the distance. It was the run-down 7-11 that all the druggies and stoners went to, but it was only the only one left with the slushie machine still running, so everyone went there. "I'm just nervous," He shrugged, pushing his obnoxiously long hair from his eyes.

___

Brendon had zoned off for quite a bit now, letting his mind wander aimlessly as they entered the gas station. His mind wandered to different topics, from the kitten he found under a car last week, to one particular memory that he had long forgotten until now. He was mad at himself for forgetting it, as it was his favorite one, and Dallon's as well. Speaking of Dallon, that's kind of where this certain memory starts.

The thing Brendon probably loved most about Dallon was his shyness. He loved his voice, it was hushed and low, and he always found a way to make everything sound like Shakespeare. It never failed to lull Brendon right to sleep late at night. But Dallon never talked too much, if anything he talked to little, but he was alright with that. Whenever they were alone, they could sit in silence for hours and it would never become awkward. You never needed to communicate to tell what Dallon Weekes was thinking. Most people can tell people's emotions by their expression, but it's kind of a different story when your friend has a resting bitch-face.

Anyone that has met Dallon has at least once said or thought he could beat someone's ass, and he's not one to mess with. Say that to the multiple Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle figurine sets in his closet. Not to forget the overwhelming amounts of glitter makeup he has in his nightstand drawer. Brendon has never left Dallon's house without a single speck of glitter on his pants.

You could always tell how Dallon was feeling by just looking at his eyes. When he was upset, they would be dull and dark, when he was happy, they'd have a slight sparkle to them whenever he talked. If he was worried or being secretive, as usual, they'd almost look like the ocean. If you focused hard enough or had a haywire imagination, you could even see the crashing waves in the sea of blue.

But, when Dallon does talk, it puts a calm atmosphere in the room. They have wonderful conversations, no matter how weird the topic. They can last for hours and hours, neither of them taking a single break. He couldn't count how many times he's stayed up until the morning just talking to Dallon about anything and everything. Brendon especially loved hearing Dallon ramble on about astrology, listing the meaning behind every star he could name, which felt like every star. It's been something he's loved since he was a child. They would sit out on the front lawn at 4 AM, Brendon would point out a group of stars and say, "And how about that one?"

There was one constellation specifically that Brendon remembered. When he pointed it out, Dallon smiled and hummed in interest. It was some weird pentagon shape, with two jagged lines coming out either side of it, under it was two shorter lines.

"That's Ophiuchus or 'the serpent-bearer'." He replied, raising his hand to grip Brendon's wrist gingerly. "Ophiu-what?" Brendon looked over at him with a perplexed look. Dallon rolled his eyes, "Oh-few-cuss," He responded slowly between a light laugh, looking back up.

"See, it kinda looks like a dude holding a giant snake." He added, "There's where his head is," He moved Brendon's hand to the right, pointing to the very tip of the pentagon. Brendon nodded. "And those two lines at the flat part, those are his legs. Then the two other lines are the snake, the tail is up there, and you can barely see it, but there's a little triangle where the head is on the other side."

Brendon squinted through his glasses, trying to put the picture together in his head. "Yeah, I see it now," He said, a smile forming on his face. It totally made sense. "Yeah?" Dallon looked over at him, a smile tugging at the sides of his mouth.

Brendon nodded, putting his hand down at he stared at Ophiuchus a bit longer. "You should work for NASA." He commented. Dallon chortled, "As if; I know nothing compared to them."

Brendon rolled his eyes, "Come on, tell me more, genius," He said. Dallon scooted closer to Brendon, the pads of his bare feet touching the top of the other's foot. It was a little sign of affection that Brendon loved.

"People often say that Ophiuchus is the 13th zodiac sign, but it isn't officially part of the zodiac as the dates slightly overlap with Sagittarius. NASA only brought it up recently, saying that it technically should have been added when the Babylonians created the zodiacs. They would've added it themselves, but if you include Ophiuchus, all the signs shift, and that would throw people off." He explained but went silent after. Brendon licked his lips and waited for Dallon to continue.

"If I'm saying too much, please let me know when to shut the hell up," Dallon chuckled. Brendon quickly responded, "No, no! Keep going, I like this," He insisted, turning onto his side, his arms rested under his head. The cold, wet, grass tickled his neck, sending a chill down his spine. He watched as the other boy smiled softly, "It's really late, you have to be tired."

Brendon shook his head, but that was obviously a lie. "Please, I wanna know more about Snake-man." He pleaded, looking at Dallon with puppy-eyes. He didn't feel like pronouncing esophagus or whatever the word was. 

Dallon sighed and looked away, a smile still on his face. He put an arm around Brendon and pulled him closer, his head now resting on his shoulder. He could fall asleep right then and there.

"As I said, it would throw people off immensely. With Ophiuchus, you would be a Pisces, and I would be an Aries." He continued, causing a scoff from Brendon.

"Thanks for stealing my zodiac, dork," He murmured with a smile, closing his eyes. "Hey, don't blame me! That's just science." Dallon laughed, looking back up. "It doesn't make sense though, I could never see you as an Aries, same with me as a Pisces," Brendon commented, his heart fluttering as he felt Dallon's hand in his hair. They were silent for a moment as Dallon brushed his fingers through Brendon's dark hair. After a bit, Dallon continued,

"The Babylonians knew about Ophiuchus, but they left it out to better match with the 12-month calendar." Dallon went on, his voice was a bit quieter now. Brendon sighed contently, it was almost as if he wanted him to shut up so he could keep talking, which was 110% okay. "They're a lot like...a weird mix between Scorpio and Sagittarius. At least I think so, but again, I don't work for NASA." He joked, cracking a small, tired smile from Brendon.

Dallon smiled back, "They're very courageous and drive to be successful in life, but sometimes it can get to them, making them very egotistical. I've read they're very much the jealous type and they love to stand out among other people." He added, and Brendon could feel himself drifting off with each word Dallon spit out. It was most he'd heard from him ever, and he loved it.

"Hey, Earth to Brendon," He heard.

Brendon looked over at Dallon, who was standing by the slushie machine, "Sorry, what?"

"I said, what flavor do you want?" Dallon repeated, holding the medium-sized cup in his hand.

Brendon shook his head. "Cherry, thanks," He smiled at him. Dallon nodded and placed the cup under the nozzle, pulling down the handle. Brendon watched the red slush pour into the cup.

"You were out pretty good there, what were you thinking about?" Dallon asked, snapping a lid onto Brendon's cup. He grabbed two pink plastic straws from the dispenser and stuck them in their drinks before handing one to him.

"Ophiucus...and Lyra," Brendon replied, smiling as Dallon threw an arm around his shoulders. They made their way over to the counter, standing by the door where there was a line to the register. It was past midnight, don't people have work or something?

"Those are the only two you remember?" Dallon asked, "There's Draco, Delphinus, Norma, Ara..." He started, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, hush, I get it, you're a future astrologist." Brendon nudged him.

"Astrologer," Dallon corrected, emphasizing the 'er', "I never really thought about it until now, actually becoming an Astrologer," He added after a few silent seconds.

"Really? I thought you've had this shit figured out," Spencer interrupted, handing Dallon a Dr. Pepper from the fridges. "Well, I don't know, I thought I did, too," Dallon joked, taking the bottle, "It doesn't sound bad, actually. I would be good at it too, seeing as I know a lot already." He added.

Brendon smiled and looked over at the cash register, his smile dropping.

He was here, Ryan,

He looked for a few, watching the boy dig out money from his pocket, a packet of Sour Patch Kids under his arm, smashed in front of his notebook. He looked frantic, as if he was running from the cops. He was wearing a maroon t-shirt and blue jeans, and overtop his shirt was a black hooded jacket. His hair was curly, this time, unlike yesterday, when he had his hair straightened. If that was his natural style, Brendon personally loved his hair so much more like that.

The woman at the counter rung him up and gave him back his change, Ryan giving her a quick nod before he rushed towards the door, his front now turned to their group.

Brendon looked down at his drink as he waited for the other customer in front of them to finish checking out after Ryan. Dallon's arm remained around him as he leaned into his side, twirling his straw around in his drink.

He didn't notice when the boy was quickly approaching and suddenly collided with him, which took Brendon by surprise. He gasped and dropped his cup, the contents of his slushie dropping to the ground with a loud 'splash'. Dallon and Spencer stepped back, both of their eyes wide.

Fucking hell.

"Oh, god, sorry! I'm so sorry," Ryan apologized quickly, not realizing who he ran into. Brendon sighed as they both got down to quickly pick up the cup and lid. "It's alright, I should've paid attention," Brendon reassured, quickly taking the blame as he picked up the cup, Ryan grabbing the lid and straw. Brendon noticed the red liquid had dropped onto his nice, white, converse. His night couldn't get any better.

"Oh, no, you boys leave it alone, I'll get that in a second." The woman said, her voice scratchy, showing obvious signs of long-term smoking. Her southern accent was also strong.

"God, I'm a fucking clutz, I'm sorry," Ryan shook his head, handing the lid to Brendon. It was then he paused, his face tomato red as he recognized the boy from earlier. Brendon noticed the area around his eyes weren't dark, the color of his irises noticeably lighter. Although the bags under his eyes were more visible now. He must have been wearing eyeliner yesterday.

Cute.

"It's okay, I'm more sorry about your shoes," He commented, pointing down to the white material, which had now been dyed a dark pink.

Ryan looked down, letting our a groan in frustration, "I just got these yesterday," He complained. The woman quickly came to their sides holding a mop. They all moved away from the door so that they could let her mop up their mess.

"Ouch, hope you like pink," The woman joked as she looked down at Ryan's shoes. Ryan swallowed as he rubbed at his nose, "I'm sorry, I was in a hurry." He murmured. Brendon shook his head and smiled at him, "Don't worry about it, really," He reassured.

"In a hurry where? It's like, midnight, you should join us." Spencer requested. Even Dallon looked at him with a confused look. Was he crazy? Not only did he not know him, but he also didn't know that this was the boy Dallon mentioned earlier.

Ryan's eyebrows bunched in worry as he glanced at the door. "I'd-I'd love to, but I can't, sorry." He said, "Maybe tomorrow," He added, before quickly going out of the door. Brendon's mouth fell open to say something but quickly decided otherwise as he watching him walk through the parking lot, pulling on his hair. There was an awkward silence, only the sound of the mop slapping against the floor.

"Man, that dude needs some weed in his life," Spencer commented, earning a harsh punch in the arm from Dallon. "Ow, what the fuck?" He spat at Dallon, who only glanced out the door, also watching Ryan, who was now crossing the street and going onto the sidewalk.

"Oh, shut up, Spencer, you've barely even smoked half a joint in your life," Brendon riposted, looking back at him and rolling his eyes.

"Still!" Spencer huffed, pressing his cold drink to his bicep. Brendon went over to the slushie machine to pour himself a new slushie. He threw away his old cup and grabbed a new one, pressing down the lever.

Dallon stepped over to Brendon, leaning to his ear. "That was Ryan, Brendon," He whispered. Brendon nodded, "I know...he looked so tense," He replied.

"Poor guy looked like a deer caught in headlights," Dallon frowned, "You'll text him tomorrow morning, right? Well...today technically." He asked.

Brendon shrugged, "I don't know, maybe," He sighed. As much as he did wanna talk to Ryan and become friends with him, he still wasn't sure if he liked Brendon; especially after that incident. Those shoes are expensive, and it'd probably take weeks to get them back to their original color.

"You should say something, it's so obvious he likes you, even if it's just as a friend. I can tell he's dying to get to know you." Dallon shook his head, putting his hand on his shoulder as they walked back to the counter. They were the only three left in the gas station now.

"Sorry about the mess earlier," Brendon said to the woman, who was just now coming back out from the 'Employees Only' door. He took a moment to look at her. Her blond hair was frayed and greying, and the wrinkles around her eyes and neck were deep. He also noticed her nose wasn't straight, and it bends to the left slightly.

"Don't sweat it, happens more than you think," She replied, waving him off. They all set their things down for the woman to scan. Spencer poked Dallon's arm and whispered something to him, to which Dallon nodded and the two went over by the door.

"You know, that kid is in here almost every day, buyin' himself the same pack of Sour Patch Kids. Occasionally he brings that sly Jon Walker with him. Boy, they sure are trouble together." She laughed, revealing the crooked, yellow teeth in her mouth. He noticed her two front teeth had a wide gap between them.

Brendon smiled at her comment, "Really? I've only just met him earlier this morning, thought he'd be a cool friend to make." He replied, glancing over and seeing Dallon and Spencer over by the door, muttering to each other over Dallon's phone.

"Oh, yeah, he's a sweetheart, definitely. He definitely has some interest in you, I saw that look in his eyes. If you're lookin' to find him, I always see him down by that old abandoned creek down past East 57th. He's just writin' and writin' away in the notebook of his everytime he's there. Lord only knows what goes on in that head of his, how big his imagination is. Wish I was like that back in my teen days, but of course, cigarettes took me over at 15," The woman shook her head, deep dimples forming on each of her cheeks as she smiled. Brendon gave her a sympathetic smile. She then pointed to the little black screen with green text across it. "$8.46", the numbers read.

"And there's the damage. I hope y'all get home safe, these streets can be real sketchy at these times," She added. Brendon nodded, digging out the money from his pocket, realizing he only had 5 dollars and 34 cents.

He looked over to Spencer, "Hey, Spence, can I get that 5 dollars you had?" He called. Spencer looked up from Dallon's phone, both of their giggles dying down, "Yeah, yeah, here you go," He replied, going over and handing him the wrinkled 5 dollar bill. "Thanks," Brendon replied, turning back to the counter as Spencer went back over to Dallon, who started laughing again.

He slid both of their fives to the lady, which she gratefully took and placed into the register, counting out the $1.54 in change. "No, keep the change, to make up for the slushie spill, I guess." He shook his head, to which the woman smiled, "You didn't have to, but thank you, darlin'. You and your friends have a nice night,"

Brendon took his drink and the small bag of potato chips, "You too!" He gave her one last smile before turning to Spencer and Dallon, who were coming over to grab their drinks. The two said their thanks before the trio walked out, sipping their cold drinks. Brendon tagged behind a bit and got out his phone. He hesitated before going over to Ryan's contact and opening their messages. He stuck the corner of the chip bag in his mouth and tucked his drink under his arm to type.

(775)***-**51

hey its brendon, the guy from earlier on your way to church? | (775)***-**34


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2,337

It's been three days, and Brendon hasn't heard a single word back from Ryan. Dallon was sent off to summer camp unexpectedly on Friday. He said he didn't know he was going either until later that morning after the gas station incident. He was starting to get a bit impatient with Ryan, and he started to wonder if he should actually just go to the creek to see if he was there. Not to mention he would be going alone, and who knows what's in there? He honestly couldn't put together why Ryan would ever want to even think about hanging out there. It was so quiet, too, Brendon would never be able to sit in there for even 10 minutes without going insane. But he thought it made sense, that type of environment was perfect for Ryan.

He never truly met him or knew what his life was like, but just by being in front of him and seeing his behavior, Ryan was quiet and reserved. He could tell that he preferred isolation than go out with even his most favorite people, and would go alone for days and call it the best week of his life. He was the complete opposite of what Brendon was, it didn't make sense that the two would get along. Brendon was loud and flamboyant, spending days going out with crowds of people and staying up until 4 AM belting out Britney Spears songs for the hell of it.

But for some reason, he felt a connection with Ryan. He adored the way he would hang his head as he walked, as to not draw attention to himself. He adored the deep, soft, calming tone of his voice, and the awkwardness in his words as he spoke. It makes sense that all Ryan did was write, if he couldn't get his words out physically, paper was his best friend.

Brendon was already slipping his boots on before he decided he should pay Ryan a visit. They were an old pair of leather combat boots he'd found at a thrift store with Sherral last summer. He prayed that he would actually be there and willing to chat a little. It was a very early morning, roughly half past 8. It was also Saturday, meaning Grace and Boyd would be off at the church helping everyone there set up for summer barbeques until 10. Brendon was good until then, but he still left a note before making his way out the door.

For a Saturday morning, it was quite chilly, so he put on his old, lavender hoodie to protect himself from the bitter temperature. He's had said hoodie for quite a long time, since freshman year. It remained one of his favorites to this day, despite it's ugly and out of style color.

Brendon pulled up the hood and made his journey to 57th, worry yet excitement racing through his mind as he thought about the endless possibilities that could come from this. Whatever it was, he was ready.

___

It was a 15-minute walk later, and he had finally come close to the long-forgotten creek, the one that the supposed boy was located. It was completely silent, much different from the constant sound of cars, people, and sirens Brendon was used to. The old, moss-covered bridge came into view, the dwindling creek below running quietly. If you didn't see the water first, you almost wouldn't have thought it was there.

The same applied for the boy sitting on the railing of the bridge, his black hoodie blended into the dark shadows of the trees and vines overhanging the breaking bridge. Brendon watched him from afar, seeing the dull pencil in his hand drag across the open notebook in his hand. He watched as his long, jean-covered legs swung back and forth lightly, the pink color in his shoes barely visible through the morning sunlight peeking through the trees. He wondered why he would be here so early in the morning, yet he stopped when he realized he was here as well.

Brendon didn't get the courage to actually call out to him until maybe 30 seconds later of just staring. His heart skipped a beat when the boy quickly whipped his head up, his body coming to a complete stop as he looked at Brendon. He noticed a quick change in his poster. His shoulders tensed, and his feet crossed over the other. His jaw tightened and his kind eyes were wide with surprise. The calmness in the atmosphere was gone. Brendon was so guilty of what he'd ruined, he'd almost ran straight back in the direction he came in, never to speak of this or to Ryan ever again, in hopes of getting it back. But a feeling in his gut told him to stay, so he did.

Ryan swallowed and closed the leather-bound notebook, slipping the pencil into the pocket of his jeans. Brendon approached, carefully stepping over fallen branches as dead leaves crunched under his feet. When his heavy boots hit the wood of the bridge, it groaned underneath his weight, almost as if it would snap at any moment. His hand rested on the railing, careful not to touch the poison ivy vine that crept up the first wooden post on the bridge. Brendon hoisted himself up onto the railing next to Ryan, who remained silent as he watched him swing his legs over the side.

"Hi," Brendon said, glancing over at the boy next to him. He smelled like vanilla and mint, which to Brendon, seemed very feminine, but Ryan seemed like the perfect guy for those type of soft scents. It reminded him a lot of Sarah from 6th grade, a sweet girl Brendon used to have a crush on. He still wondered where she was to this day, he missed her dearly. She would've been a wonderful friend to keep around.

"Hey, who told you I was here?" Ryan asked, the sound of his voice making Brendon's stomach flutter.

"The lady at the gas station said she sees you here a lot. Thought I'd pay you a visit." Brendon replied. He decided not to include staying up later that night complaining to Dallon and wondering why Ryan wouldn't reply to his text.

"Oh," The boy said simply, turning his head to look at the water. The sunlight through the trees highlighted his dark brown hair, sending deep golden streaks through his curls. Brendon wished he could run his hands through it, that'd be everything.

"If I would've known you were coming, I'd have tried to look a bit more decent before coming," Ryan added, a small, awkward laugh falling from his mouth. Brendon couldn't help but smile at his comment, "You don't consider that 'decent clothing'?" He asked, earning a smile back from Ryan, which warmed Brendon's heart.

"Well, I usually straighten my hair if I'm out in public or meeting people." He added. It was natural,

'Just date me now or so help me,' Brendon thought.

"I think it looks good like that," Brendon said instead.

A small breeze blew past as a faint red tint came to Ryan's cheeks. The boy beside him shivered and pulled his sleeves over his hands. He wished he could wrap his jacket around him, cuz he would in an instant.

Ryan glanced at Brendon for a second before looking back out to the water. "Thanks, I guess." He replied quietly, setting his notebook to the other side of him, balancing it on top of the post. He shoved his hands between his thighs, "What made you wanna come talk to me?" Ryan questioned aloud, finally looking back up at Brendon. He rubbed at the skin behind his ear from his jawline as he spoke.

"Because you're really fucking cute and I want to be your friend please"

He shrugged, "I don't know, I just would like to get to know you better. You seem like a cool person," Brendon said. Ryan hummed, holding back a smile behind his hand, "Flattered, but I'm really not as cool as some may seem. The only thing I'm capable of in life is writing and listening to the same Goo Goo Dolls album for a week straight, it seems." He said.

Brendon's eyes widened in surprise. Jesus, he's edgy as fuck.

"But writing is cool! Have you not read anything by Stephen King? Dude's a fucking legend," Brendon retorted, "And the Goo Goo Dolls are probably the best band in the world," He added.

Ryan huffed, "You think so? I haven't heard anyone besides my dad say that." He chuckled.

Brendon smiled at him, nudging his shoulder, "Of course! I have Superstar Car Wash in my collection at home. I was gonna save up some money to buy myself their newest album around Christmas. My friend, Dallon, got it as soon as it came out and it's so good."

Ryan's eyes lit up, "Really? I haven't gotten a chance to listen to it yet, I've only heard one of the songs on the radio." He commented. Brendon felt like he could explode, he should totally buy Ryan the album. No, no, way too soon.

But Christmas is a few months away, who knows where the two will be by then.

Suddenly, the loud and quick sounds of crunching leaves approaching them caused them to whip their heads around. Spencer was coming through the brush, holding his nose and a bruised eye visible behind his hair. Brendon's eyes widened and his breath went short.

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed as he hopped off and ran over to him, embracing him tightly. Spencer was sobbing, sputtering out curses between his bloodied hand. 

"Those fucking Henderson twins! Fuck them, oh my god, they were-" He muttered into his shoulder before letting out another cry.

Brendon started panicking and turned back to Ryan, who was staring in confusion and concern. The look upset Brendon, as he looked hurt that he might have to leave so soon.

"Ryan, I'll cya later!" He called to him, quickly leading him and Spencer out of the thick woods. He couldn't believe this was happening, Spencer never got beat up, what did the Henderson's do?

When they got to the curb outside of the dirt path, he sat him down, "Spencer, listen, man, you gotta calm down, it'll only make things hurt worse," He said, holding him close as he sat down next to him. He realized he was only in an army green T-shirt and slipped his hoodie off, wrapping it around Spencer. 

"I was just trying to take a walk Linds and her dog, then they fucking walked up and ruined shit! They were calling her a whore and kept asking her if she realized I was a "fag". They tried to take her from me, saying they could show her what a real boyfriend was." He spat out the last sentence, leaning into him as he removed his hand from his nose. He revealed the blood that had spilled onto his hand, looking down at it with a groan, "I think they broke my nose..." He mumbled.

Brendon shook his head, feeling his heart break. Why Spencer? The things guys do these days just for sex. They didn't deserve that, poor fucking Linda, she just wanted to take a peaceful walk with her boyfriend. If Spencer didn't love her, he wouldn't have taken the hit for her. If he didn't love her he wouldn't gush over her after every date they have. If they weren't in love, they wouldn't have been together for 3 years.

"I tried to text you and you didn't answer, so I called your mom. She told me you came here. " Spencer added, and Brendon instantly felt guilt build up in his stomach. He left his phone on his bed.

"I'm so sorry, Spence," He whispered, squeezing him tighter, "We need to get you home, we'll get Dallon to come pick us up. Do you have your phone?" Brendon asked, pulling away momentarily. Spencer shook his head, "Dallon's at camp, remember? Call his mom or something, she's off today."

He handed Brendon his phone and put his head down, putting his hand back over his nose. The raven-haired boy put a hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly as his friend sniffled into his hand.

He went to his contacts and clicked to the contact titled, 'daldo's mumther'. He pressed the dial button, the terribly long ringtone playing as he pressed the speaker to his ear. After a few seconds, he heard someone mutter a small "Hello?" into the mic.

"Hey, it's Brendon. I'm with Spencer, we're over by the old creek. He got into a fight with the Henderson boys, can you maybe come pick us up?"

He heard shuffling on the other end. Brendon brought his hand up to pick at the skin of his lips nervously. The Weekes family were all usually up by 8, so he prayed she would be able to get them. 

"Of course, yeah, you guys hold on, alright? I'll be there in a few." Dallon's mother said with a deep breath. Her voice sounded concerned. The line went dead, signaling that he ended the call. Brendon sighed and slipped Spencer's phone into the pocket of his own jeans.

"She's coming, you'll be alright." He cooed quietly to Spencer, putting his arm back around him. His hurt friend leaned into his desperately, removing his hand again to look at the blood that had covered the skin across his palm. "I fucking hope so..." He murmured in a frustrated tone. 

Brendon quickly hushed him by running his hand through Spencer's hair, the two falling silent as they waited for the next 8 minutes for the kind woman to arrive. He didn't notice Ryan looking at the two from behind, a sad look on his face as he watched Brendon comfort his friend. He had much to write about tonight.


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words: 3,956

The old woman sat on her porch, watching as the lanky boy approached the house. She took a drag from her cigarette before sitting up straight, smiling as he looked up and started walking in her direction. She was wearing some dark blue jeans that were rolled to her mid-calf and a pastel pink t-shirt that was a size too big. Her greyed hair laid down in long curls, the morning sun making her green eyes sparkle.

"Ryan, good to see ya," She said, pulling out the rest of the pack and pulling one out. The boy looked tired, almost as if he could fall asleep just standing there.

She watched him climb up the three steps to the front porch, quietly sitting next to her on the swing. She held out the white stick to him, his young eyes looking down at it in confusion. "Isn't it illegal for adults to give drugs to kids?" Ryan asked, looking back up at her shining green eyes.

He watched the wrinkles around them deepen when she smiled, "Live a little, Ryan." She murmured, motioning the cigarette to him. Ryan had smoked before, but only the weed that Jon had stashed in his room. He always told him how much better it was than cigarettes flavor-wise. Guess he was about to find out if he was right.

He hesitantly took the soft, nicotine-filled stick from between her fingers and slipped it between his lips. She knew he smoked, she wouldn't have offered otherwise. The woman handed the flip-lighter to him. Ryan was always jealous of her having the beautiful vintage Champ lighter.

He held it delicately as if it were made of glass. It took a few tries before the wick went aflame and the end of the cigarette was lit, the embers glowing dully as he took a long, first drag.

She watched him the entire time, taking a few deep breaths from her own. Ryan blew out, a thick cloud of smoke emitting from his mouth as he watched it disappear into the morning sky. He couldn't decide if he liked it or not, his furrowed eyebrows showed that as the elder laughed softly. The door creaked open, revealing a messy-haired Jon Walker in the doorway.

"Morning, Jon," The woman said, looking up at her grandson lovingly. He smiled at her before looking at Ryan, who took another drag of the cigarette. He suddenly scrunched his nose and quickly blew out, shaking his head at the suddenly bad taste in his mouth. "Nope, don't like it." The boy coughed, putting the stick out into the ashtray between him and Jon's grandma.

Jon chuckled, "Don't say I didn't tell you so." he said, tugging down the hem of his maroon t-shirt, "And good morning, June." He said, coming over to give her a hug and a kiss on the temple. He kept an arm around her as he stood up straight, looking over at Ryan with the typical "Wanna come in and play Rock Band for the next 6 hours?" look.

Ryan took a moment to smile and admire how perfectly the morning sun hit him. He always loved Jon in the mornings, he was so calm. Ryan hated mornings, but he loved them for June's blueberry pancakes and his sleepy friend who usually woke up at noon during the summer. He wished he could love mornings like Jon, maybe he'd be a more positive person like him.

"You boys run along, I'll be in in a minute..." June muttered and waved the two off. Jon went over to him, a smile tugging at the corners of Ryan's mouth as his friend grabbed both of his hands. He let him drag him inside, Ryan closing the door behind him as Jon walked over to the stove to their right. There were already delicious pancakes ready in the pan, a potholder placed on the handle, signaling that the pan was still hot. 

"Yesss..." Ryan celebrated under his breath as he opened the cabinet to the left of the sink, pulling out two plates for him and Jon. His friend chuckled lightly, "It's been a while, any updates on 'girl jeans'?" He joked. Ryan rolled his eyes as he piled the blueberry filled pancakes onto his plate, "I told you to stop quoting me on that," He scolded, his cheeks going red in embarrassment.

"What? It was funny, Ryan!" Jon reassured the lanky boy. Ryan shrugged, a small smile on his face as he grabbed the syrup from the cupboard next to the fridge, "Was not, it was the stupidest thing I ever said. I was just feeling confident cuz someone actually fuckin' complimented me." He retorted, giving Jon a side-look. Jon sighed, "Oh hush, at least it worked," He said, grabbing himself a coke from the fridge before he got his plate. "Unless it didn't, but I wouldn't know cuz you haven't given me an update yet!" He said, giving Ryan a look that said "Hint-hint!".

As much as he liked Brendon as a friend, he was different from what he was used to. He always seemed to have a full bar of energy and a mind that worked at 100 miles per minute. It was too early to confirm it exactly, but just the way he smiled, communicated with Ryan, and the way his leg bounced the entire time sitting at the creek together. It could also have just been nervousness, or who knows, maybe a mixture of high energy and nervousness? The first thing Ryan looked at on a person was body language so that he could make an inference about what he could be getting into.

The taller, much calmer boy he always hung out with seemed to keep him down to earth, more under control of himself. Was his name Dillon? He seemed pretty nice and very affectionate towards the smaller male. He couldn't help but feel a bit jealous of the two, especially after seeing his arm around Brendon at the gas station, murmuring something to him he couldn't quite decipher. If you saw them randomly on the street, you would've thought that the two were possibly dating. Brendon seemed to be into it as well, as he saw by the way he laid his head on his shoulder and leaned into him.

"He visited me yesterday at the creek. He didn't stay for long, though; his friend got beat up by the Henderson's..." Ryan finally responded after a minute, a bit of sadness in his voice as he thought back to the bleeding and sobbing boy, followed by the sudden shock and concern on Brendon's face. Jon looked back at him, his eyebrow raised in concern as he drowned his pancakes in syrup, "Who was it? How bad was it?" He asked, finally putting down the bottle once he was satisfied with the amount of overly sweet, golden substance on his plate. Ryan shrugged, "I saw him at the gas station, it was the same kid that asked me to hang with them after I spilled Brendon's drink..." He replied, "I couldn't get a good look, not that I would want to, but I heard him say he might've broken his nose, so it must have been bad," He added, going over and sitting on the couch after getting himself a glass of water. 

Jon let out a frustrated sigh, "Those fucking twins never learn, do they?" He grumbled, following Ryan over to the old, beaten brown sofa. Ryan cut a neat triangle from the pancake before jabbing his fork into it and shoving it into his mouth. He mentally moaned at the taste; he missed June's pancakes so much. The two sat in silence as they started to eat. 

"Anyway, how are you, Ry...?" Jon asked quietly, taking a bite from his breakfast. The house was silent, Ryan noticed. Usually, June had the TV on, playing some old 50s show like I Love Lucy (her personal favorite) or The Lone Ranger. He never tells Jon but sometimes during sleepovers here when he can't sleep, he sneaks out to the living room real late at night and finds June still up, smoking a cigarette and watching her shows. Most of the time he can't help but sit and watch with her until he finally passes out in the cramped, uncomfortable armchair.

"I mean, I've been better..." Ryan shrugged, looking up to see Jon staring back at him with a frown. The past few days have been a struggle for him, and it seems like the only escape for him has been the creek and Jon's house. He was already almost in need of a new notebook because of how much he'd been writing the past 2 weeks. There was too much he didn't want to get into right now. 

"I mean...do you want to talk about it?" Jon murmured, quickly looking down to take a few bites of his pancake. Ryan continued looking at him for a few more seconds, reaching over to flick down a strand of hair that was sticking up on Jon's head. "No, I'm fine. I could really use a smoke, though." He answered, sniffing and scratching the bridge of his nose. 

Jon nodded, shoving the last few pieces of his breakfast in his mouth. "Let's go to the creek." He mumbled behind the pancakes in his mouth, standing up to take his plate to the sink. He seemed eager to go, it was obvious he hadn't smoked in a minute. Ryan stood and followed, closing Jon's mouth by lightly pressing his hand under his chin, "Don't talk while chewing, Jonathan." he teased, giving him a small smile as he set his plate on the counter. 

___

Jon rolled a joint for both of them on the way there, his tongue protruding from his lips in concentration and he tried to roll the paper over the crushed substance. Ryan watched him carefully as he finally sealed the ends. He held it up in front of him, examining it before holding it out to the boy next to him.

Ryan gingerly took it between his fingers, finally looking in front of them as the two stepped onto the bridge. Ryan stuck the stick of weed between his lips and climbed up onto his usual spot, pulling the sleeve of his black hoodie over his hand to nudge off the poison ivy vine.

Once they both were settled shoulder to shoulder, Jon pulled out his skull patterned lighter and handed it to Ryan, who took it eagerly and lit the end of the joint.

He inhaled deeply, blowing out smoothly as he watched the thick cloud of smoke dissipate into the cold, bitter air.

Ryan held his head up for a moment, staring at the moving sky above. It wasn't long before he felt the joint being taken from between his fingers, looking over to see Jon taking a hit himself. He looked back out into the morning sky, which was now a bright blue, compared to the soft yellow an hour ago.

"Do you still not want to talk about it, Ross?" Jon asked, the familiar deep and calming tone of his voice relaxing Ryan's nerves. He looked down at the water, knotting his hands together in a nervous manner. It was unusual for him to be here without a pencil.

"I don't know..." Ryan started, cutting himself off to process his words. The night he and his dad fought wasn't anything new, but to Ryan, Jon knew that it always shook him up and he needed a few days to recover fully before he started going back to his normal self. The fights didn't happen often, and maybe that's what throws Ryan off sometimes the day after. He'll always come to Jon with his eyebrow knitted together anxiously, and he would always find him with a pencil in his pocket just to have something to occupy his hands when he was thinking about it. It was just a habit of his he picked up as a kid. He was never a writer until his teens, but the smooth yellow paint under his thumb was always soothing to him as a fidgety and curious child. Now, he just had a better excuse to carry one around with him. If the old pencil wasn't an option for him, he would just sit there and silently twiddled his thumbs in constant circles. 

It bothered Jon when Ryan was silent, that much was obvious. It might seem strange, as the lanky brunette has always been an introvert, but there was a difference between Ryan being socially awkward and Ryan just not talking. When Ryan won't talk, it meant that a metaphorical tornado had ran through and left the city in his brain wrecked. 

The usual calm wind would turn violent, sucking up and disturbing the peace in his mind, sending him tumbling around helplessly in the chaotic storm in his brain, and you couldn't do anything about it until it eventually goes away. But even after, his thoughts were now scattered around and torn, thrown in places that they shouldn't be, and it takes so long to get buildings built again, and things back and running where they should be. Although, when you live right smack in the middle of tornado alley, you can't get things back in time before the next one. All Ryan could do was set up temporary homes and places and hope for the best until the next wave comes and ruins it, sending him back to square one.

Right now, Ryan was desperately trying to put up those temporary homes, and pray that mother nature will give him a break from the chaos for a while. To Jon, he felt like Ryan was Oklahoma and he was Maine. Jon's only current family was June, and with old, kind June being the only one around, besides Ryan, he had nothing coming and destroying the home in his brain. Everything there was clear skies and delicious pancakes every morning.

Ryan lived with George Ross, who was the tornado in his life. With the alcoholic addicted man in his life, every day felt like he was going through an escape room. One wrong move and you're fucked.

Jon frowned, looking at the troubled boy next to him. If only he could go in and try to help him rebuild those buildings, clean up what his father left. "There's gotta be a more valid answer than just 'I don't know'," He said to Ryan, his voice just above a whisper.

Ryan continued to keep his gaze on the water, his mind going back to work as he felt Jon's stare on the side of his head, trying to get something out of him. "No," He mumbled, brushing his hair from his face. He took the joint from Jon's hands hesitantly, wishing that it would kick in faster. 

Jon sighed, "Please, Ryan? You can't expect that writing everything down in a book will suddenly fix you. You never talk to me anymore and it hurts me because I know that you're hurting. Why can't you let me help you? I care about you, Ry, you're my best friend and I hate constantly feeling like I'm the only one trying here." He blurted desperately, taken aback by his own loud tone and words. Jon didn't like snapping at Ryan, nor did he often do it, but he was starting to feel hopeless. It wasn't healthy to just keep everything in and only having a notebook as emotional support. He believed that writing did good things, and it is good for Ryan, but after he started doing so he cut Jon off from his problems and denied help. He just wanted Ryan to know that someone cared for him, and that no one was gonna leave him alone. He could tell it was eating him alive.

Ryan looked over at Jon, his eyebrows raised in shock and his eyes holding a mixture of anger, guilt, sadness, and confusion. "Jon, I-" He started, swallowing deeply as he tried to find the right words to say, but miserably failing. "I don't know what to say to you..." He whispered, his soft, honey eyes gazing back to his hands.

Jon looked back down as well, guilt suddenly washing over him. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I shouldn't have yelled at you...I'm just worried about you, you know?" He replied, snaking an arm around his friend's shoulders. He didn't even yell, he was right. He had nothing to be sorry about, Ryan though. He brushed his hair back, and Jon could hear when he broke through a tangle in his curls. "I know, I just don't know what I would say to you. I honestly never thought about talking to you." Ryan said, silently welcoming the warmth around him.

Jon squeezed him, looking at him with a sad smile, "I love you, you know that, right? You can always talk to me, Ry," He reassured, ruffling his hair, earning a frustrated groan from the other boy. He couldn't help but let out a chuckle, swinging one of his legs over to face Ryan, "Give me a hug, loser," He teased. Ryan sighed and swung a leg over as well, a soft, shy smile on his lips as Jon wrapped his arms around his torso tightly, Ryan's arms coming around Jon's scruffy neck. He closed his eyes, resting his chin on his best friend's shoulder. His short beard tickled and itched the crook of Ryan's neck, though he didn't mind. He felt quite safe for the first time in a little while, despite the bridge railing not being the most comfortable in the world. 

It frustrated him knowing that Jon was right. He was so invested in writing that he forgot that it wasn't his only option, and he really felt guilty because it should have been obvious by Jon's constant question of "How are you doing today, Ry?" every time they hung out. He always pushed him away with some version of "I'm fine,". Of course, he knew that Jon cared about him, and he trusted him as well. Maybe he was just being selfish, too wrapped up his own problems to even care to try and consider that maybe he can't always depend on himself to fix him. Too selfish to realize that people are actually wasting time thinking and worrying about Ryan because he won't just say something already. They shouldn't have to think about what another person is going through when they have their own things to worry about themselves. He should have just opened up to Jon, actually be a fucking man for once.

Jesus, maybe if he didn't have thoughts like these he'd be much happier. Right now he just wanted to focus on this moment right now, not whatever this shit in his head is.

He really didn't know where he would be if Jon never came into his life. The first time Ryan met Jon, actually, was in the children's park. It was Ryan's safe spot before he found the creek. He was there much more than at the creek now, every day, actually. It was around the time his dad's health got worse mentally, leading to his alcohol consumption increasing. It sounds kind of dramatic when he says Jon saved his life, but he did in a way. 

He was only in 7th grade, but it really did feel like the end of the world was coming for him at that time. Living with his dad's negative energy only made his mental health worse as well, and all he did was spend hours and hours a day riding his bike around the entire town, hanging out at the park. Anything to get away from home. No, not even home, just his dad. The day he met Jon felt like a relief. No one would talk to 13 year old, anti-social, Ryan Ross. No one knew how to anyway. But Jon was patient and understanding, definitely much more mature for an 8th grader. He'd seen Jon at this park before with a beautiful little girl with dark chocolate eyes and long, black hair with tight curls that were pulled up into pigtails. He was babysitting his dad's best-friend's daughter. He did every Wednesday for about 7 bucks an hour while he was at work. He kept up the same job for 2 years until she started Kindergarten. She goes to Ryan's church as well, he met her dad once, saying that Jon talks about him a lot. Luckily it was all good things, and Ryan still gets a smile from the man every time he's there on Sunday.

Jon and June didn't go to church, neither did Ryan's dad even. George did for a while, but stopped after he got a job as a receptionist at the car repair shop down on Dailey St.

Ryan had always been kind of religious, which he picked up from his dad at a very young age. A century ago he went with his mom before she left, which stopped their weekly trip to the fairly small, but beautiful church until his dad finally got his shit together for a good while. Ryan didn't remember his mother much, but the pictures he saw digging through his dad's closet trying to find the guitar showed that she was a beautiful woman. He never knew to this day why she left. It didn't bother him anymore, as it was a long time ago, but he still wonders.

Jon slowly pulled away from him, his hand lingering on his shoulder. Ryan looked up at him, his eyes still glossy from the tears he prevented. Jon patted his shoulder and looked down at the joint.

"Are you wanting the rest of this or not?" Jon offered, holding out the burnt out stick. Ryan let out a tired chuckle, "I just need a nap..." He muttered. He barely got any sleep last night because his dad was yelling to himself. He was supposed to get a raise today but to his dismay his boss refused last minute. His record player volume only went so high before his dad got upset about it.

Jon furrowed his eyebrows, but swung his leg over and hopped off the railing of the bridge. "What? Did your dad get the raise?" He asked, watching carefully as Ryan climbed down. While doing that, he put out the lit end of the joint and shoved it in his pocket.

The curls on Ryan's head whipped around when he shook his head, "He was up last night yelling at himself, so I couldn't sleep. I felt bad, but I didn't want to intervene, of course. I tried to make him breakfast this morning to maybe make him feel better; but you know him." He sighed, shoving his hands down his pockets in hopes of keeping them out of the cold.

"He should've gotten it, I got June's old Cutlass fixed there and he seemed alright. Definitely faking the cheery attitude but at least he got his job done." Jon commented, unintentionally bumping into Ryan a few times as they walked through the brush and trees.

Ryan only shrugged, keeping his head lowered towards the brown leaves below as they made their way back home. He didn't hate his dad, because he himself was a good person. It's the alcohol that turns him into the short-tempered, sensitive, and angry man he is today. Ryan prayed he wouldn't fall into the same path as him in the future.


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words: 5,304

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formatting will be weird here as well, as it includes text messages. Hopefully it will still be clear as to who's talking.

June 29th, 3:52 AM

b.u.: im high and linley

b.u.: come get mw pls

b.u.: srry this os Brendon btw

Ryan was sitting on his bed. He'd been at his house for the past few days, and strangely he'd been wondering where Brendon went for a while until those two texts. He definitely wasn't expecting to get this kind of text, but he'll take it.

hi, what happened? :r.r.

b.u.: dallons at acmp and i dnt wanna text spence cuz hes sick

is that the one that got beat up by the hendersons? :r.r.

b.u.: yea

is he okay by the way? didnt he say his nose got broken? :r.r.

b.u: hes ok his nose almost did but its fine jst bruised

ah :r.r.

so you want me to pick you up? :r.r.

___

His fingers tapped nervously on the leather steering wheel of his father's white SUV. He didn't like driving, mostly because he didn't have a driver's license even though he knew how to drive perfectly. He was taught by Jon, who should be considered a professional driver because he was the best one he knew. He knew all the in and outs to driving, all the hacks and tips, even how to change a popped tire from anywhere. No one in his family was a mechanic or a Nascar driver or anything, it was just random shit he taught himself cuz he wanted to.

The radio in the background quietly played The Bends by Radiohead throughout the car, one of his favorite CDs of his dad's. Radiohead was one of the first bands he got into, as he practically grew up listening to them through his dad. The two of them loved them so much that they'd both seen them in concert together two times. Once when he was 8, and then again when he was 12. It was one of the few good memories he had with his dad.

His head turned to a window right to the front door that had swung open. He watched as a pair of legs clad in tight black jeans shot out, followed by the rest of Brendon swinging out. After he landed in the grass, he reached back in and pulled out a stuffed-full grey backpack. Ryan swallowed and reached over to unlock the door as Brendon came running towards it. It was kind of crazy how close they were after only hanging out once. That or maybe Brendon really was lonely. Didn't he have other friends, though? He was a handsome, outgoing and nice guy, he would expect that he had a lot of friends. But then again, a lot of people in their town aren't what they seem.

The passenger door swung open, revealing the messy-haired teen outside of the vehicle. Ryan forced a smile at him as he climbed in, the boy also smiling goofily back at him. "Thanks for picking me up," He said, letting out a light cough afterward. He set his backpack on the floor. He noticed the strong smell of pot on him.

Ryan nodded, slowly pulling out of the narrow driveway as carefully as possible. He honestly didn't know where they were going to go, so he hoped Brendon would speak up about it at some point. Until then, he was just going to drive around the town for a while.

Ryan glanced over when Brendon started laughing out of the blue. He raised an eyebrow as he turned back to the road. He must be stoned stoned.

"What is it?" Ryan questioned, in hopes of starting up some kind of conversation.

Brendon started laughing harder, doubling over and putting a hand on the console in front of him. Ryan started panicking because he didn't understand what was so funny. Was there something on him? Did he tell a joke and didn't hear him?

"Have you driven before??" The energetic boy next to him asked. Ryan swallowed and brushed his hair from his face, "Yeah, I don't have my license, though. Why? Am I a bad driver?" He replied nervously but smiled at him anyway.

Brendon's laugh died down into giggles as he sat back up, "No, never-" He let out a chortle and looked out the window, "Never mind," He answered, crossing his arms over his chest. A messy smile remained on his face. "Turn right here," He added, pointing to the stop sign ahead.

Ryan nodded slowly as he carefully made the right turn, "Where do you plan on taking us?" He asked, a bit of humor in his voice as he glanced once more at Brendon.

"Anywhere and everywhere," Brendon replied, leaning his head back against the seat. Ryan couldn't help but chuckle a bit, "Just how much did you smoke, Brendon?" He questioned, taking a left once there was another turn.

"A lot," Brendon replied, his eyes widening with a smile as he spoke. Ryan shook his head in disappointment, a smile making its way towards his face. He couldn't be mad at him, his best friend just got beat up to the point of bleeding and almost broken bones. He must be under a lot of stress.

"But I don't wanna hear about me, tell me about you, Ryan," Brendon looked over at him, his amused look replaced with interest. Ryan had always dreaded that question. He didn't know what he would say about himself.

"Well, uhh..." Ryan spoke quietly, his awkward and anxious side coming back out. "I mean, what do you wanna know?" He asked, glancing over at the boy in the passenger seat for a split second. He heard Brendon shift, "Where do you work? What are your hobbies? What else is there to your amazing music taste? Your sexuality, things like that," He rambled on, putting a finger up for each thing he mentioned. Ryan tensed at the last topic he mentioned. His sexuality. What even was his sexuality?

"My sexuality?" Ryan said dumbfoundedly, his grip tightening on the wheel. Maybe the train tracks, or the abandoned school... "I mean, it's obvious I'm a raging homosexual, so what are you?" Brendon answered in a curious tone. When Ryan went silent, he added with concern, "Should I have asked? That was a stupid question, nevermind..." He sighed, bringing his legs up and crossing one over the other.

"No! It-it's fine, I've just...never really thought of it before, ya know?" Ryan replied quickly, his fingers tapping the wheel anxiously. Brendon suddenly was the quiet one. At least he knew that he wasn't crushing on a straight guy. "I don't know...I just haven't had any experience with a guy before so I don't exactly know if I would like guys. I wouldn't mind trying, and honestly, I've looked at a few guys like I have with girls..." He added quietly. Brendon nodded understandingly, his mind going places it shouldn't be going at that moment. Ryan slowed at a stop-light and looked over at Brendon, "Sorry...you were probably expecting a better answer..." He commented. Brendon reached out and gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, "It's alright, man. I know that it's not something you discover overnight," He replied, which calmed Ryan's nerves a bit. Brendon added a small smile, getting one in return from the boy next to him. He sort of missed the feeling of Brendon's hand on his shoulder when he finally pulled back.

"So who are Spencer and Dallon?" Ryan asked curiously. He knew of them, but if they were going to be around as much as he thought they were, then he wanted to get to know them a bit. Brendon looked at him with a disappointed look, "You haven't answered any of my questions! You can't do that," He complained, giving a light shove to his shoulder. "I know, I will just answer that first," Ryan reassured, the corners of his mouth tugging up. Brendon sighed dramatically, "Fiiiine," He groaned, earning a light laugh from the older male next to him.

"I actually knew Spencer before I knew Dallon. I met Spencer when he used to have this band back earlier in highschool just going into Freshman year, I think," Brendon started, Ryan listened carefully.

"He used to have this band called Pet Salamander, I've gone to a few practices, and they were really good. We just seemed to get close really quick. Dallon I met at my church, and he's not a person that cared what people thought, so he came up to me and straight-up said, "My gay-dar is going off, somewhere in this direction," He swirled his finger around himself to show what Dallon did. He sounds like a good kind of asshole.

Ryan couldn't help but laugh, "That's amazing," He replied. Brendon nodded, a huge smile on his face as he thought back to that, "Really. Of course, I was excited because the only people I knew that were LGBTQ+ were Spencer, my neighbor Sherral, and a Sunday school teacher Mr. Bugatti. Sherral is like a third parent to me...they're taking me, Dallon, Spencer and his girlfriend to the pride parade in the summer. I'd like you to meet them sometime, they're amazing," He commented. Ryan nodded, "They sound amazing. Do they go by 'they'?" He asked. "Yeah, they're non-binary, they/them pronouns," Brendon answered. Ryan nodded again slowly in fascination. "That's awesome, I've never met anyone who identified as that." He commented.

"Me neither until then. But then again this is a really small town. But yeah, Dallon and I got super close after a while. He was actually the first guy I fell in love with..." Brendon added the last sentence quietly.

Ryan mentally yelled "I knew it!" in his head. He knew something was going on between the two, and now he knew. "Are you two dating?" He asked, slowing once he spotted the yield sign by the train tracks. He pulled into an abandoned parking lot just before it and turned off the car. "No, obviously. It's complicated, but he was scared of his parents finding out, and he just didn't feel the same as well. I actually wasn't able to get over him for a long while, until...you know." He said, pulling on the hair at the back of his head.

Ryan didn't know, actually, but he nodded anyway and unbuckled, "That must've been tough," He said, unlocking and exiting the SUV. Once Brendon got out he went over to Ryan's side, shoving his hands in his light purple jacket pockets. The weed smell was more strong now. "I mean, I got through it. Now, where are we?" He replied, following beside Ryan as they traveled down the cracked asphalt. "An old place I used to ride my bike to. It's pretty old, so there's not much security. I don't think we'll get caught." He answered, brushing his hair from his face as he gazed downwards. "You don't 'think'? Ryan, there's literally no cameras anywhere!"What's so different from then and now?" Brendon chuckled, wandering in front of him as he gripped the straps of his bag. Ryan looked up with a shrug, "I just don't get out as much as I used to, and there's been a lot of bad shit that's happened here, so I figured they put cameras up." He replied a bit awkwardly. He walked with a bit of a hunch, as he usually did to hide himself from people.

Brendon sighed, turning back around to walk forwards, and slowing back to Ryan's pace. "What do you do, Ryan? I mean, for fun." He asked. Ryan's eyebrows furrowed as he thought hard, "Play guitar, hang out with my friend, Jon, write. I don't really see a point in going out with no reason. The adrenaline and chaos of just doing shit you shouldn't be doing gives me anxiety to think about. I know it's a bit hypocritical since I brought you here but I didn't really intend on going far. I just wanted to come here out of nostalgia, figured I'd use being with you as an excuse to come." The brunette replied quietly. He looked up, his face twisting into confusion at the tinted bottle of alcohol being held in Brendon's hand. Another was gripped in his opposite hand. He felt uncomfortable as he stared at the familiar beverage his own father drank.

"I'm gonna get you shitfaced tonight," Brendon said, a bit of humor in his voice as he looked to the taller male with a smirk. Ryan swallowed nervously, "I don't...I don't drink, Brendon," He commented, refusing to look at the bottle. He knew he was being stubborn, but he was afraid of what it'd do to him.

"God, live a little. I want you to have a good time, that's what I came here for and that's why I texted you." Brendon replied in annoyance, thrusting the bottle in front of him again. Ryan took it in his hand. It felt unnatural, but he figured Brendon wouldn't take no for an answer.

'Live a little' was a phrase he heard often in his life. Although he was sick and tired of hearing it, he knew he would have to listen eventually. That or he would just end up doing it, whatever 'living a Little's would be. He was aware of how incredibly boring and dull he was, but the life he lived was safe, familiar, and comfortable. He knew what would happen, what do to, when to do it, and why he would do it. He sometimes wished he weren't so stubborn with being adventurous because he always looked at people who stayed up late with friends doing dumb, pointless and oftentimes illegal shit and thought 'they must be happy'. Probably not happy in general, but what they were doing brought them joy, and he craved that feeling, but physically couldn't bring himself to act upon that craving.

The boy spoke up again, "I haven't known you long at all, Ryan, but it's obvious you're not comfortable with this, but you have to trust me. You trust me, right?" He said, stepping in front of Ryan and staring at him with a soft look, one he recognized from the creek the first time they hung out. He kind of missed it, even know he had never acknowledged it then, but he did now. It somewhat calmed him. 

"Yeah, I do," Ryan answered, pulling out the car keys from his pocket and fumbling with the key chain until he had the bottle opener. He held it out to Brendon, absentmindedly chewing on the inside of his lip.

And trust him he did, no matter where it would take him that night.

___

In a matter of minutes, they were 30 minutes down the track, Ryan on his 2nd beer, Brendon on his 3rd, and having a good time. Ryan had a genuine smile on his face as Brendon laughed aloud at his tipsy comments. It felt good not thinking about what his actions were, who it would affect, and why he was doing them. He'd never gone on these sorts of adventures before, and quite honestly he trusted Brendon a bit more than he intended.

They came up to a bridge Ryan rode across as a kid. He always hated this bridge, so he had very little memory of it, besides going by as fast as he could to get off if it.

Whatever's under it had since been engulfed in darkness, making it unknown as to what it was to the two of them. Brendon was unafraid to step onto it, not paying any attention to how the boards creaked uncomfortably under him. He looked back at Ryan with a smile, "It's safe, come on," He commented. Ryan watched as Brendon chucked his empty bottle over the edge, the two watching as it fell deeper and deeper and deeper into the void. The very faint sound of a bottle smashing into a thousand pieces was heard about 4 seconds later.

Ryan quickly shook his head, "Brendon, you're insane, one wrong move and we will go tumbling off to our death," He scolded. Brendon raised an eyebrow at him, "Ryan, it's fine, trust me. See?" He walked further ahead, the boards groaning as he turned back to the older male. Ryan stood nervously with his arms crossed. The two stood staring at each other before Brendon came over and grabbed his hand, slowly dragging the boy behind him as they crossed. He felt his cheeks instantly flush as he gripped his hand. They walked for a minute or two hand-in-hand.

"You said you trusted me, now quit being a wimp, Ryan." Brendon teased, dropping his hand once they got towards the middle of the bridge. Ryan dropped his jaw and nudged "I am not being a wimp! It's dangerous!" He protested. "Are too!" Brendon retorted, "Am not! I won't hesitate to push you off!" Ryan boasted, giving Brendon a sly smirk as he lightly shoved him.

Brendon let out a loud laugh and gripped his hands around his grey backpack straps, "You mean this ledge?" He stuck a leg out over the drop-off, causing Ryan's heart to skip a beat. "You're gonna fall, stop!" He warned, unable to hold back his own laughter. Brendon continued his laughing fit, repeatedly hopping forward in circles and sticking his leg out over the edge as Ryan tried to reach out towards him. "Brendon, stop," Ryan ordered, his tone firmer. Brendon only took it as a joke and went on walking along the very ledge.

It wasn't long before he stumbled out of most likely intoxication, his arms flailing out as he started leaning over towards the edge. Ryan suddenly went into panic mode, "Shit!" He hissed as he ran up and grabbed his hand, pulling the boy back to his feet. His heart was racing, his eyes wide with fear as he stared at him. Brendon almost just died, all out of them messing around a train bridge suspended probably over 400 feet in the air.

Brendon only let out a chuckle, raising his arms up to hold Ryan's humorous face in his hands. "You really thought I'd fall off, didn't you?" He said, wearing a stupid smile that only made Ryan furious. His face flushed a light red, holding back the urge to just punch the grin right off of his face. "Yeah, I did! Don't fucking do that!" The taller boy scolded, swatting his hands away from his face. Brendon only put them back teasingly, the smile widening to reveal his near-perfect teeth. Ryan didn't try to fight back again, only fought back the smile that crept upon his face with a harsh glare.

"You're cute when you're mad," Brendon commented somewhat jokingly, squeezing his face between his hands. Ryan let out the smile he'd been holding, "Shut up, you could've died." He spat, crossing his arms as he leaned back out of Brendon's grip. The smile on his face turned soft as they finally started walking again. Brendon swung his bag off his shoulder and unzipped it as he cradled it in his arms. He pulled out two more bottles, holding one out to Ryan. "Round four," Brendon said to himself once Ryan took the brown bottle. "Whatever...you're stupid..." He muttered and got out the bottle opener for the fourth time. "Am not, you're just stubborn," Brendon retorted, taking the metal key-chain and opening the bottle with a satisfying 'pop'. He pocketed the cap in his jean pocket and took a long sip, chugging nearly the entire thing.

They walked for quite a while in silence, Brendon gradually going through the bitter beverage in his hand, Ryan's remaining unopened. It took him by surprise when Brendon's hand extended out to grip Ryan's. He took it as just an intimate gesture, squeezing his hand lightly as they finally crossed the bridge, the two stepping back onto the normal gravel terrain and tracks. He looked off at the overhanging trees, admiring how beautiful nature was out here now that they were away from civilization. No trash laid in the ditches or trees, no bright lights illuminating the forest and polluting the view of the sky, just pure nature. What made him stop going out? He made a mental note to get out in nature more often.

"There's a security building just up here that I used to hang out at. It used to be closed at night, so I would only come then. That place and Fallen's Park practically shaped my childhood. I wanna stop by just...for nostalgia." The brunette commented, point North of them, his hand remaining in Brendon's.

Brendon suddenly looked at him with a perplexed look, "Fallen's Park? I thought it was Fallen's park, like falling, not like Jimmy Fallon." He replied, "That sounds lame, Fallen gives it a bit of mystery and edginess to it."

Ryan pulled his hand from Brendon's and went behind him to put the unopened bottle he'd been carrying back in the bag. He noticed all kinds of random stuff in there, but he decided not to snoop. "But FallON sounds more realistic, it sounds like an actual park name. They're usually named after someone or something." Ryan explained, earning an eye roll from Brendon, "You're not only incorrect, but also boring." He retorted. The taller boy mocked Brendon's words in a funny voice, his mood lifting a bit as his eyes landed on the security building. It seemed abandoned though, graffiti and carvings engraved in the outside walls and the windows by the door smashed. The metal bridge that connected the two buildings overhead was beyond rusted and holes were peeking from underneath. Towards the end of the bridge, there was a large hole that disconnected the second building and the bridge, ripped wires that transported electricity to the second building hung out dangerously from the underside of the walkway.

"Geez," Brendon murmured, "This is the place? Looks like it's been abandoned for a decade." He asked, to which Ryan replied, "Unfortunately, and probably. I haven't been here since middle school. We can keep going if you don't want to...it's probably not safe and there's probably toxic shit in there. This building was old so they used gas heaters to heat the place during the winter."

Brendon sighed at Ryan's paranoia and dragged him along to the front door, releasing his hand to tug on it. "See? It's locked let's go-" Ryan said stubbornly and turned around, but the sound of the door scraping against the concrete flooring inside made him turn, seeing Brendon pulling his hand back out the window. "I say we go in, this place is your childhood, you should see it again. Who knows when they're gonna bulldoze this place?" He replied confidently, walking in. Ryan swallowed, frustrated at Brendon's smart brain as he followed inside.

The two looked around, Brendon just ahead of him as he ran his hand along the giant graffiti mural on the right wall. "Well, you know this place, lead the way," He said, turning back to Ryan. He nodded, yet stood still for a bit longer to reminisce. The smaller male decided to explore the room on his own a bit but didn't go much further once he found an old swivel chair against the wall. He sat down with a sigh, then letting out a loud burp into the building, the sound echoing throughout the empty hallways and rooms. "'Scuse you," Ryan said, jokingly looking over to Brendon with disgust. "Can you just pull me around on this?" He murmured, the slight slur in his voice more noticeable now that he's calmed. He slipped off the heavy bag and set it next to him on the ground.

"You wish," Ryan answered, going over and grabbing the back of Brendon's chair. He spun him around and pulled him away from the wall, shoving him towards the opposite wall. A fit of giggles erupted from Brendon as he rolled across the room, holding on for dear life. Ryan smiled as he watched.

Brendon eventually tipped over a brick that was laid in his path, letting out a shriek as he fell on his side, the chair that he was on landing haphazardly on his legs. Ryan chortled, throwing a hand over his mouth as he watched Brendon laugh hard and loud on the ground, holding his arms over his stomach as he gasped for breath through his laughter. Ryan's cheeked flushed in embarrassment as he trotted over and kicked away the chair, noticing the clear shards lying under the broken window, which Brendon was rolling around in. He was wearing a jacket, so hopefully, he didn't get stabbed.

"Get up, you dumbass. You're lying in glass." He said between chuckles. Brendon only laughed harder, the sound of it warming Ryan's heart as he leaned down to try and pull the boy back up.

"I know! It hurts! That's why I'm laughing!" He responded, looking up at him. "Then get up! You're being an idiot," Ryan huffed, pulling on both his arms now. Brendon finally responded and let Ryan help get him up, the glass shards crunching under his shoes as he stood up straight again. Ryan wiped the remaining pieces off from his back, Brendon still holding a grip on his opposite wrist. "Thanks," He said, dark brown eyes looking up at Ryan's. He only nodded in response, "Now, let's go up to the second floor, see if we can maybe cross over to the other side." He added, getting a reply of approval from Brendon. The two gathered their things and made their way through the facility.  
___

Ryan cringed as the glass bottle hit the wall, the sound echoing throughout the room. "Why did you do that?" He asked, disappointment in his tone as he continued climbing up the last few stairs to the bridge door. "It's better than just setting it down somewhere." Brendon smiled, catching up behind Ryan as he pushed open the door, the cold air making the two shiver when they stepped out. Ryan observed the walkway below them, "This was a terrible idea," He commented as he started walking forward towards the middle. It was a fairly small bridge, so it only took a few seconds.

Brendon slipped past Ryan and sat down, sticking his legs through the lowest bar of the railing and letting them hang. Ryan decided to sit next to him, lightly bumping his leg against Brendon's as he did. The boy next to him bumped him back, crossing his arms over the bar and resting his head in them.

Ryan let out a small smile as he looked back out at the tracks. He had forgotten about this place, and he was upset that he did. It brought back so many good and fun memories of skipping rocks at the lake just past the forest against the tracks, riding his bike alongside the train with Jon on the back pegs as it ran by. Coming out to this spot at night when his dad was being too much to handle. Writing a Blink-182 lyric in Sharpie on the wall near the front door, then it being covered back up the next day. He had to thank Brendon, cause he wouldn't have even thought about coming here if it weren't for him encouraging him to go outside his comfort zone.

Speaking of, he had almost missing Brendon's comment when he suddenly spoke. "It's pretty out here." He said quietly. The brunette next to him nodded, copying Brendon's actions on the railing. "I know I can come off as some...careless, irresponsible asshole sometimes, but I just hope you know that I'm not any of that. To be honest, I blame most of it on the ADHD." He joked, cracking a smile from Ryan as he gazed down at his swinging feet. He wasn't surprised. "But if I ever do something that makes you upset, please tell me," Brendon added, giving a sheepish look to Ryan. He felt his eyes on him, but he looked ahead at the star littered horizon. Ryan nodded again, falling silent again as he processed tonight in his mind.

The boy continued to gaze at him, "I feel like no one tells you enough, but you're a really great guy Ryan." He said quietly, "Buckle in, cuz I'm not sober, and I might say some stupid shit right now,"

Ryan let out a small smile. He was such a weird drunk.

"I don't know the half of what goes on in your life, but I really do hope you'll let me stick around long enough to know. The first time I saw you, I knew you'd be different. Not different in a bad way, but a lot of my friends are off-the-walls stoner. There isn't really much else to them outside that crackhead-like personality. And Dallon has always been easy to read since day one. There isn't anyone I've met who I've actually had to find out myself who they are, anyone who doesn't just tell me that their whole life story on the first day. That's why I told you to tell me if I do something you don't like, cuz I don't know how you'll react to me like my usual friends. I don't see that as a bad thing though, I think it's better, actually. It feels more like a human x human relationship. Once you know everything about a person, it just feels...I don't know. I love learning more about a person even if you've known them for over 3 years or something. It just feels real." Brendon said, never breaking his eyes from Ryan's direction.

The boy to his left just sat listening silently.

"I just had this feeling in me that knew you'd be special, which sounds really fucking cheesy and cliche, but," Brendon shrugged, finally breaking his gaze and laying his head back in his arms, "I don't know how else to put it. It's surprising that you've probably been here my whole life and I haven't seen you once until that day! Maybe I have and I'm just fucking blind. Or high, possibly both, who knows."

Ryan chortled at that, taking a turn to look at him this time, "I was on my way to church, just took a different route. The road I usually took was closed and I was feeling too stubborn to just walk around the construction. I ended up being 10 minutes late cuz I had no idea where I was going." He replied.

Brendon laughed, "It was totally worth getting called 'girl-jeans'," He commented, earning a frustrated groan from Ryan.

"I was trying to look like an asshole! I ended up looking like a fucking fool," He murmured, shoving his face into the crook of his elbow.

The chocolate-eyed boy continued his laughter, "Shush, it was cute," He said between giggles, nudging Ryan's leg below. He only turned his head to hide his flustered look, "Whatever, it was stupid..." He responded, "Doesn't help that Jon refers to you as that now, just to fuck with me," He added, trying to hide a smile behind his hand, despite Brendon not being able to see it anyway.

Brendon brought back his gaze, deciding not to answer. He pulled out an arm and reached over around Ryan's shoulders, pulling him into his chest

Ryan panicked at this for a second, because this had never happened before. But, welcomed the warmth as he crossed his arms around himself and leaned into the boy. He blames it on the beers.


	6. six

Yet another boring Sunday, the only difference is Brendon was alone.

An extra notebook on one of the tables became his entertainment while services went on. The pages bound in the spirals vandalized in dark ink. Scribbles are what sat on the page. Literally.

Brendon was so bored beyond his mind that he didn't even have the motivation to think of anything creative to put on the paper. As much as he hated to admit, he wasn't much without Dallon or Spence. It probably makes him look like a loser, but he was more himself with them, and he felt more himself.

The light flicked on.

"What are you doing here alone in the dark?" Mr. Bugatti said as he waltzed in, setting his bag on his desk, the thick Bible in his hand making an unsettling 'smack' as he dropped it down.

The boy looked up from the pages, now curling under the weight of the ink on the paper. "Existing," He said, closing the notebook and throwing it carelessly on the desk behind him. He leaned back on his hands, looking over to the adult. "And I don't know where the light switch is," He added.

Mr. Bugatti furrowed his eyebrows and walked over to the bookshelf that resided by the door. He turned to Brendon and reached his hand behind it, flickering the lights a few times before going back to his spot.

Brendon hummed, "In my defense, it's your fault for putting that ugly bookshelf there," He retorted sassily.

Mr. Bugatti only shook his head, falling ungracefully into his creaky office chair. "You know, I heard from Mrs. Weekes that he'll be home next week. Your despair won't last forever, Brendon. It was about time he came back, I'm sick of seeing that godawful tie." 

"What's wrong with my tie?" Brendon furrowed his eyebrows, then continued to look down and noticed he was talking about the knot that his tie was tied in. He did it purely out of laziness, 

"For how old you are, it's surprising you don't know how to tie your own tie." He commented quietly, looking over at Brendon with a disappointed look.

Brendon sighed, "Dallon usually ties my ties, and to be honest, I couldn't care less about my tie, cuz I usually take it off once me and Dallon head out." He retorted. Mr. Bugatti gestured his hand at him, "That's your problem, you always have someone else doing it so you don't learn," he explained, to which Brendon rolled his eyes in return. 

Then, a quiet knock was heard on the door. The two turned their heads towards the door, and Brendon was quick to get his tie off and chucked it behind the bookshelf. That would be embarrassing.

"Come in," Mr. Bugatti called, sitting up in his chair and fixing the curls that sat in a ponytail on his back. The door opened the rest of the way, and a taller figure shuffled in, "Hi, I was told Brendon was in here...?" the voice asked. Ryan, to be specific. He was wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt, his hair straightened to reveal his poorly cut fringe. 

Mr. Bugatti gestured to Brendon, who had a perplexed glare, "He's right here. What's your name?" He asked, watching as Ryan gazed over to where he pointed, softly smiling at the boy on the table. Brendon swallowed and softened his expression, "Hey, Ryan," He said, then patted the spot next to him on the table. Ryan originally didn't plan on staying, but if that's what Brendon wanted...

Ryan gave a nod at Brendon and came in, coming over to sit next to him on the table. "Ryan, huh? How are you?" Mr. Buggatti said to the boy, who replied, "Alright, how about you, sir?"

Mr. Bugatti gave Brendon a look that said "Good manners! Maybe you should try,"

Brendon ignored it. 

"I'm good, myself. Welcome to our dysfunctional church," He joked under a laugh. Ryan's face scrunched in concern, but relaxed when he noticed Brendon had smiled at the teacher's joke. "Ryan, this is Mr. Bugatti, the Sunday School teacher here for the kids. He's 'one of us' as I like to say." Brendon smiled softly at Ryan. Mr. Bugatti nodded in response, "This room is a safe space, no matter what those bigots out there think." He added, pointing to the door that led out to the main room where service was being held. Ryan felt sympathy for Brendon having to come here every Sunday. "So, 'one of us' means...?" He started.

"I'm the G in LGBT. Yet to find the love of my life, sadly for my age, but I have fun right now teaching Sunday school. I love children, it's why I do it, and it's good for them to know that God loves everyone, no matter who you are, where you came from, what your sexual preference is, or why you're here." Mr. Bugatti added. Ryan looked at him with a perplexed stare, "I didn't know LGBT+ could be Christian, I thought that was like...against the laws of being LGBT+." He commented. The man smiled, "There are good Christians and bad Christians in the world, Ryan. Those who abuse what the bible says, and those who don't. Those who abuse it go against what the bible says." He replied.

Ryan nodded slowly, "I just thought all Christians thought that way..." He said

Mr. Bugatti shook his head, "Not all, but most do, sadly." He sighed, "Anyway! Brendon, now that you have someone to entertain you, do you have somewhere to be?" He joked, looking over to the dark-haired boy next to Ryan.

Brendon glanced over at Ryan, "I guess so if Ryan's ready to go." He replied, to which Ryan nodded, "I forgot to tell you, but I have Jon waiting outside in his truck. I wanted you to meet him and he wants to meet you, too."

Brendon eyes widened in surprise, "Alright then. I'll see you later, Mr. Bugatti," He said. "I'll see you boys around, have fun. It was nice to meet you, Ryan!" The man said, giving a smile as they hopped off the table. "You too, Mr. Bugatti," Ryan replied, following behind Brendon out the door.

Ryan closed the door behind him. "Follow me, we have to use the backdoor," Brendon instructed, Ryan furrowing his eyebrows questionably, but following anyway.

They snuck behind the rows of pews filled with people and entered a room, which Ryan assumed was a kitchen. On the opposite wall across from them, was a door that led outside.

Once they were out, Brendon shivered in his thin button-up, "God, I don't remember it being this fuckin' cold out." He huffed. Ryan shoved his hands deep into his hoodie pockets, nodding in agreement as they went around to the parking lot.

Ryan could see Jon in the driver's side window, a grin on his face as he reached over and unlocked the passenger side door, then behind him for the back seat. He had a fairly old truck, so there were cranks for the windows and all the locks were manual. He also had yet to fix the air conditioning, so that was hell in the summer. But the heating was still intact, so thank god for that. Ryan went over to the passenger side and got in, Brendon staying on Jon's side and getting in the back.

"Welcome back, Ry, Brendon," Jon said enthusiastically, reaching over behind him to give Brendon a handshake. "It's nice to meet you, Jon," He said, smiling at Ryan's friend. "You, too, Brendon. I've heard lots of things about you," Jon responded, giving a friendly smile to Ryan, who looked away sheepishly. Jon always loved to pick on Ryan, which was fun between the two of them, but when it came to meeting someone new with Jon, he loved to kick it up a notch.

"So, we're gonna have to do some errands for June. I also need more weed so we're gonna have to see my dealer on our way back from that." Jon said, pulling out of the church's parking lot and turning back onto the main road. Ryan nodded and turned on the radio, everyone in the vehicle cheering in excitement when they heard the beginning of Don't Look Back in Anger by Oasis through the speakers. Jon cranked up the volume a few more notches as they all started singing along loudly in unison. It was amazing how one song brought them all together so quickly. Brendon's voice was definitely louder than Jon and Ryan, but that wasn't a problem because he had a good voice. They sat like that the entire way to the Wal-Mart.

____

Their ride ended on an old George Michael song as they pulled into the crowded parking lot. "Are they having a sale on candles again or something?" Jon joked as he turned the truck off and exited. Brendon chortled, "It's also a full moon tonight, all the witches and Wiccans are probably all here raiding the candle section." He joked. Ryan stopped and smiled as he waited for Brendon to join him and Jon by their side.

Jon pulled a paper that was lazily folded from the front pocket of his dark blue jeans. "Alright, Brendon you're in charge of the list." He said, slapping the paper onto his chest. Brendon stumbled back at the unexpected gesture and peeked at it. "Who buys blueberry syrup?" He asked. Ryan looked back at him with a shocked expression. "Jon's grandma makes the best pancakes in the world. When we get back there, she'll probably already have some on the counter." He explained. "Her secret ingredient is applesauce and cinnamon. They're soo good." Jon added. Brendon hummed, "That sounds really good, I'm excited now." He smiled.

The trio entered the bustling store, Jon grabbing a cart as he glanced back at Brendon, "First item?" He asked.

The brunette peeked at the list, "Applesauce," He replied.

Jon scrunched his lips together and nodded, "Should've expected that, she puts everything in alphabetical order."

Ryan slowed to Brendon's pace and grabbed his left bicep, pointing to the candle aisle to his right. There was hilariously a small crowd of people shoving candles into baskets and carts. He had a glance in some of the carts and saw all kinds of jars, oils, and spices.

"Oh my god, I was fucking joking about the witch thing!" Brendon exclaimed, turning back to him. Ryan let out a laugh, or, more like a wheeze, and lightly slapping his shoulder a few times. "I know! How fucking funny is that?" He replied.

"So fucking funny," Brendon chuckled, shaking his head as he shoved the list back in his pocket. The two caught back up to Jon, who looked at them with an astonished look.

"Did you see all those fucking people in the candle aisle?!" He asked. Ryan nodded, "That's what I was just telling Brendon," He replied.

"Girl jeans, what's next?" Jon said as he shoved a pack of applesauce into the cart

Brendon smiled, suddenly remembering what Ryan said. He looked over to Ryan, who was tomato red. He seemed to be distracted, though with looking at the butter, either pretending or didn't hear Jon. He looked back to Jon, who was already wandering off.

"Brendon, what's next on the list?" Ryan asked, making Brendon turn to look at him. He fumbled for the list in his pocket, peering at it before looking back to the taller male. He was still looking at him, which only made his heart race and his cheeks flush. He must be doing it on purpose.

"Um, blueberries." He replied. Ryan nodded and motioned for him to follow him. They were a bit further behind Jon now, who had his focus on the pastry stand.

"So Jon smokes?" Brendon asked, breaking the silence between them as they trailed behind Jon. Ryan responded with a nod, "He and his grandma June are/were huge stoners. June used to be a big hippie back in her teenage years. Before Jon left home, he got some bongs, pipes, and all sorts of shit like that from June for Christmas. He hasn't let go of them ever since. I kept trying to tell him that it'll kill him, but I've since become sort of a stoner myself. Maybe it's a sign that I'm stuck with him forever." He added, looking ahead at Jon. He was speeding with the cart, then hopped up on the bottom rack, riding down the aisle as he slammed a pack of donuts in the seat.

Brendon chortled, "I'm surprised. I never would've thought you'd smoke." He commented. Ryan shrugged, "I only ever smoke when I feel like I need it. After a bad night/day, feeling anxious, upset. I don't know, whenever I just need to chill out."

Brendon nodded, "Honestly I don't get how you don't have a ton of friends. You're like, the coolest person I've met this year."

Ryan's gaze fell to the floor, "No one's ever seen me, or cares to notice me. I mean, I've always just been this gloomy kid. Kinda like Allison Reynolds from The Breakfast Club." He said, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck.

Brendon bit at his bottom lip, following Ryan's gaze. "Do you steal people's wallets and drink vodka?" He asked jokingly.

Ryan smiled and held up Brendon's wallet to him. Brendon's gaped, "You asshole," He chuckled, snatching it from him.

Ryan smiled at him, "Chill, I literally just did it after you said the question. I'm surprised you didn't feel it, those pants are almost skin tight." He said, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets.

"I've got ADHD, man, my brain can't pay attention for shit." He responded. Ryan rolled his eyes, "Oh yeah, forgot." He continued smiling.

Brendon reached into Ryan's back pocket and snatched his wallet, opening it to tease him.

Ryan immediately reached out for it, in which Brendon turned and stepped in front of him, walking backward down the aisle.

"George Ryan Ross III?" He questioned, looking up at him with a goofy smile. Ryan grabbed it, "Stop, that was from freshman year." He murmured, his face red from embarrassment. Brendon went up and grabbed Ryan's face, scrunching his nose up with his smile as he squished his cheeks.

Ryan slipped out of his grip, even more flustered as grabbed his wallet, "Not funny." He grumbled, a small smile on the face, though.

"Come on, you love me," Brendon joked, shoving Ryan lightly as he went back to his side. Ryan shoved him back, "Not in the slightest." He spat, putting his I.D. and wallet back in his pocket.  
___

Spirals of smoke danced around the ceiling of the room as the three sat scattered across Jon's bedroom.

Brendon brought the joint to his lips, taking his sweet time to inhale as much as he could. Afterward, he let out a thick cloud of white, watching it join with the rest of the smoke in the air.

Jon quietly plucked the guitar in his arms, sitting crisscrossed on the floor next to Ryan, who sat with his head back in Jon's swivel chair. He spun back and forth, his eyes closed as he listened to Jon. Brendon looked over at him, silently scolding himself when he noticed the pink converse on his feet. He still feels so bad for that, if it's not out now, it'll never come out. Or maybe Ryan doesn't care.

Ryan opened his eyes slowly once Jon started strumming a song, Coldplay, Brendon recognized. He closed his eyes again and mouthed along to the lyrics, Jon singing the song quietly to the small audience that was the two of them. A smile formed on Brendon's face as he sang along with him. "I came here with a load, and it feels so much lighter since I met you," Jon murmured, but smiled as well when he heard Brendon's voice with him.

Ryan shook his head with a light chuckle, making grabby hands towards the joint in Brendon's hand. He got up from the bed and handed it to him, but lingered beside him, "Come here," He said. Ryan's eyes peaked at Brendon, "Why?" He whined. "Because!" Brendon retorted, spinning Ryan around to grab his hands. "No, I don't want to," He swatted his hands away, taking a drag from the joint in his hand. He jokingly blew out the smoke in Brendon's face.

"Seriously?" He asked, "Don't be that way, get up," Brendon grabbed his hands again, managing to pull him up from his seat. Ryan took the joint from his mouth and handed it to Jon.

Brendon looked up at him, "Have you ever slow danced before?" He asked.

"That boy has never danced a move in his life, I bet."

"Shut up, Jon," Ryan spat, only making his friend laugh at him, "I've danced before, just not in front of you." He added. Jon mocked him, giving him a sly grin. Brendon shook his head, "That's your problem, you just need to relax and focus. I bet you wouldn't tell the band at your wedding to shut up if they talked to you and your partner." He commented. Ryan glared at Jon, "I would if he were in it. Who said I was getting married anyway?" He retorted.

Jon pointed his pick at him, "Just because you said that I will make sure my band plays at your wedding and comment on every single move you do." he joked. "What band?" Ryan asked. Brendon hushed him, "Ryan, Jon won't ruin your wedding, if you have one. Jon shut the hell up." He said. Ryan huffed and turned to face Brendon again. Brendon smiled, "Jon's gonna play music, and I'm gonna show you how to slow dance." He explained.

"Why?" Ryan asked,

"Because I want to," Brendon replied,

"Fair enough," Ryan murmured,

The smaller male nodded, pulling him closer as Jon played awkwardly to himself.

They stood there for a moment before Brendon chortled loudly, shoving his face in Ryan's shoulder to try and suppress his laughter. Ryan sighed, yet a small smile tugged at his lips "Why are you laughing?" He asked. Brendon covered his mouth after failing to stop. The boy in front of him pulled him off from his chest and looked at him, but he only fell back against him.

Ryan's arms fell around Brendon as he looked at Jon with a shocked expression. Jon was chuckling as well as he shrugged at him.

"Brendon, why are you laughing?" Ryan repeated, thankfully he quieted down to wheezy giggles. "My family is going to kill me, god I'm so fucking high," He murmured. "Dude, you can just stay here until you sober up, I'll spray Fabreeze on you or some shit," Jon said, putting down the guitar and stretching out his legs in front of him. Brendon reached up and wrapped his arms around Ryan's neck, leaning against him with most of his body weight.

"Geez, Brendon-" Ryan huffed as the two of them collapsed onto the bed. Brendon started laughing again as he trapped him in a bear hug, intentionally squeezing him as tight as he could. Ryan squirmed under him, "Jon help me!" he screeched as he tried to push Brendon off of him.

"No, Jon help /me/!" Brendon retorted, looking back at him as he struggled to keep Ryan down. For someone who has arms the size of spaghetti noodles, he was decently strong.

Jon grinned and got up from the floor, practically launching himself at the two as him and Brendon both held down Ryan.

"Traitor!" Ryan spat,

"Just give up, Ryan, you know you'll never be able to defeat us!" Jon cackled. Ryan desperately shook his head, "I did not consent to this!" He whined.

In the end, Ryan ended up losing, which pleased Brendon as he clung to him. The two of them awkwardly laid across the end of the bed with Jon's legs sprawled across Brendon's back. He had his laptop sat on his stomach, most likely scrolling through Facebook by the occasional smile and silent laugh/huff through his nose. Jon got up once to put a Snow Patrol CD into his stereo. Besides that, the room was dead silent.

Ryan laid on his back, an arm under his head as he looked down at Brendon, who had surprisingly fallen asleep on top of him.

After a few seconds, Jon peeked out from behind the screen, watching Ryan twirl a small chunk of Brendon's hair out of boredom. "Did he pass out?" He asked. Ryan glanced over at him, nodding before looking back at the sleeping boy around him. Jon hummed,

"Usually you're the one to pass out after smoking," He said with a smile before they fell silent again for a brief second. Ryan suddenly held up his hand when Brendon stirred and flipped his head to face Jon. When he stopped, Ryan let out he breath he didn't realize he had held.

Jon broke the silence, "Do you see yourself getting with Brendon?" He questioned. Ryan placed his hand back on Brendon's head, tangling his fingers through his thick hair. It took him a second to answer.

"I don't..." He started but paused to think for a second more. "I don't think so..." Ryan continued quietly, earning a face of confusion and shock from Jon. "I mean, I know you haven't really figured out your sexuality yet, so I understand, but-"

"It's not that. I could worry less about that right now." Ryan interrupted. "He's just...something else. I know it's kind of a dramatic way to put it, but I don't know how else to word it. He sort of...scares me, I guess." He added, "I'm not used to being around someone like him. He's so reckless and extroverted and just...I don't know, perfect? I'm honestly surprised he isn't hanging with the Hendersons." He muttered.

Jon furrowed his eyebrows, "Woah, okay I get what you're saying, but the Hendersons? That's saying a lot, man." He commented. Ryan huffed and rubbed his eyes, "You know what I mean, he's just..." He looked back down at Brendon.

"I don't know..." He repeated, "I say this a lot when talking about him, but I have no experience with a dude. It's all uncharted territory, it feels weird." Ryan added, dropping one of his hands on Brendon's back softly. Jon nodded, "Yeah, I understand that. You never know, though. He seems like a nice guy and he likes you a /lot/. That much is very obvious." He replied. "I just don't understand why he likes /me/." Ryan commented, to which Jon scoffed in an offended manner, "Seriously, Ryan? What isn't to like about you? Don't be so harsh on yourself." He said, earning an exaggerated sigh from Ryan, "Stop being such a dad friend and try to see this from my perspective. I know you're far from being at least somewhat gay, but just think about trying to date a guy-"

"Look, Ryan, calm down. I don't wanna say this in a mean way, but don't just think about yourself. Think about how stressful this must be on Brendon. He just suddenly saw a /really/ cute dude, mentioned him to his friend, and got outed against his will. He's probably never been with a guy, either." Jon interrupted. Ryan fell silent for a bit and ran both of his hands through his hair, instantly making the dark brown strands stick out in obnoxious places. "His hair is /so/ fucking soft." He said breathlessly, repeating the action a few more times. Jon let out a laugh, "You're in love with him," He added. "No! His hair is just...so soft..." Ryan retorted, his voice softening at the end. 

Jon shook his head and shut the lid of the thick cinderblock that was his Dell laptop, "Whatever, man, you want a Dr. Pepper?" He asked, getting up and stretching his back. "Please," Ryan replied.


End file.
